


my mind is blind to everything but you

by smugdensmitchell



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Ben has a boyfriend, Callum is his best friend, Friends to Lovers, M/M, and Callum just rlly rlly loves him, ballum - Freeform, but Ben is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-01-15 19:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21258431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smugdensmitchell/pseuds/smugdensmitchell
Summary: Callum Highway and Ben Mitchell have been best friends for as long as Callum has lived in Walford. He knows everything about Ben, and Ben, well, hethinkshe knows everything about Callum.What hedoesn'tknow is that Callum is completely in love with him. And Callum doesn'twantto know what would happen if he found out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everybody!!!
> 
> I hope you're all super duper well and super duper **hyped** for next week's Pam/Ballum content! 
> 
> In the meantime, I had this very *whispers* _unoriginal_ idea for an AU fic. I have no idea how long it's going to end up being, so let's just roll with the first few chapters and see what happens I guess :) First chapter is probably going to be the shortest, just kind of setting the scene...
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

“What’s he said now?” Callum asks, eyeing up his best mate in a way that says ‘I’m concerned about you’ with slight undertones of _‘here we go again’._

Ben ignores Callum’s advances, rather concentrating on the message-come-novel that he's crafting on his phone, thumbs working at 100 miles per minute. 

_Ben rarely texts him,_ Callum thinks, _if ever._ He always has to settle instead for a brief phone call if they ever wish to arrange plans, meaning they don’t get to exchange pleasantries about one another’s day as often as he’d maybe like to. Callum blames this on that one time he got carried away and put a kiss on the end of a text, a text Ben had read whilst in the company of his boyfriend, Jamie. 

_ **‘Come over later? X’** _

Of course, it was a question they had exchanged many-a-time, yet somehow, this time, it ended in a burst lip for Callum. Apparently guys don’t like other guys that try to make plans with their other half. Especially when you try to do it with a kiss on the end. 

He recalls being frustrated at the fact that Ben had sided with Jamie, arguing (albeit with little conviction) that Callum had taken their friendship a step too far. Of course, he texted Cal later to apologise for his pitiful reasoning, stating that the punch was _‘unnecessary’._ With a kiss on the end. _The irony._

“Don’t forget the kiss,” Callum says in jest, attempting to bring his side tracked thoughts into context, watching as Ben reads furiously over his own drafted message.

“Is this funny to you?” his friend remarks, bluntly. “I can’t believe he’s actin' like this.” 

Callum has to stop an _“I can”_ escaping him, muttering it under his breath instead. Honestly? All he ever wants is a pint with his best friend. The reality for months, however, has been Ben giving him an earful about Jamie every time, and Callum feeling, once again, like a walking _**Dear Deidre**_ magazine column.

“I don’t know how he dare Ben, I really don’t. I can’t remember the last time he wasn’t kicking off about you hanging out wi’ me, yet he does whatever he likes with _whoever_ he likes. Double standards, I’m telling ya.”

“It’s not really _whoever_, Callum. They work together,” Ben jumps to Jamie's defence, seemingly defeated. “And besides, I’m not that guy, I…I don’t wanna be that guy, y’know? Controlling an-“ 

“But you aren’t, Ben. You know that, and most importantly _he_ knows that. This is exactly what he wants. You flapping over it an-“ 

“Err, I ain’t flapping!”

“Alright, alright,” Callum reassures, suppressing a smirk at Ben’s defences. “But, the point still stands. He can’t take you havin’ other mates, but he drops you for his mates like it’s nothin’!” 

Ben’s gaze meets the floor, placing his phone face down on the table and taking a sip of his pint. His eyes were the picture of tiredness and his brow furrowed, something all too familiar to Callum when it came to his friend’s other half. 

Struggling with what advice he could possibly regurgitate this time, Callum settles for a reassuring hand on the small of Ben’s back, meaningless utterances like _“it’ll all blow over”_ making their dutiful appearance. 

Only, Callum hopes this time it won’t, and what kind of friend does that make him?

...

Callum was on his 7th pint when Mick finally intervened. He’d been moping for a solid two hours after Ben had headed off home, clearly not in the mood for company following the harsh exchange of texts between himself and the apparent love of his life. 

The breaking point came some short time after Callum tried to engage in conversation with Patrick about his favourite Christmas song, proceeding to drunkenly belt out _“you scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot”_ at a level of volume that disturbed Mick’s sleeping son, Ollie, and frankly, the rest of the pub. 

And so, here he was, stumbling up the backstairs of the Vic, a concerned Mick following closely behind him.

“What’s goin’ on?” Linda asked as they reached the top of the stairs, her voice barely a whisper. “Ollie’s asleep!” 

“Sort this one out, will ya?” Mick says, though there is no malice in his tone.

“I don’t need sorting out,” Callum denies, grabbing onto the bannister for physical, and probably emotional, support. “Just had a few too many, that’s all.” 

Linda sighs, smiling at him with empathy. “Is it Ben?” 

Callum’s silence is her answer. 

...

“So, let me get this straight,” she says, placing a cup of tea in Callum’s hand (either to warm him up, or perhaps sober him up - he wasn’t sure which). “This guy gets the ‘ump when he knows you and Ben are hanging out together, but then he drops Ben for _his_ mates to go out when they already had plans?” She shakes her head. “I don’t get it.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

“It’s double standards, Cal.” 

“Again, what I said. An’ I tried to tell him this, but I must’ve been speaking in foreign. Actually, I may as well av’ been talking to Jean, and she was kickin’ off about summing’ on the table behind!” 

Linda chuckles slightly, though probably in the _‘it’s so true it’s almost funny’_ kind of way, Callum thinks. She shuffles around, reaching for the throw draped across the sofa and handing it to Callum. 

“Here. Take that,” she says softly. “You can have the couch for the night. Your old room’s full of boxes at the minute.” 

Callum shakes his head, batting her hand away gently in an attempt to clutch at what he felt were the remains of his dignity. 

“I’m a big boy, Linda,” he jokes. “I’m sure I’ll manage the walk home.” 

He begins to lift himself from the couch, taking a quick gulp of his tea before placing it on the coffee table. Linda isn’t remotely convinced, glancing at him with apprehension. The extension of her arm barely shifts as she waits for him to take her up on the offer, knowing all too well that he will. Callum is almost like a son to her. He always does this when he’s upset over Ben. **Always.**

The young man sighs in defeat, grabbing the blanket and flopping back onto the sofa like a petulant child. 

“I just think he’d be better off wi-“ 

“-with someone like you, Cal, I know. But he loves Jamie. And you can’t help who you love.” 

She heads towards the door, not before placing her hand affectionately on Callum’s shoulder and squeezing it slightly in comfort. 

“Tell me summing' I don’t know,” he murmurs in response, kicking his shoes off and curling up into a position that was as comfortable as one could get on a sofa. “Night.”

Linda turns out the lamp, reciprocating Callum’s goodnight wishes before heading out, leaving him alone with his thoughts. A man well into adulthood, unable to handle the fact that he is irrevocably in love with his best friend, and there's **nothing** that he can do about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum enjoys spending time with Ben and Lexi, with Lexi proving to be an unlikely ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has invested time in this story so far, it really does encourage me to write knowing people are interested and enjoying it!! 
> 
> This chapter is a fair bit longer than the first, although there's still very much a _scene setting_ vibe to it. 
> 
> Enjoy, and thanks again for reading! 
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

A brief knocking sound pulls Callum out of a light sleep, and he’s sure he can hear a gentle female voice. 

“Callum?...Cal? Can I come in?”

And _there_ was the knocking sound again. He pries open his reluctant eyes, trying to reposition himself in a manner more presentable as his location dawns on him. 

“Are you awake in there?” Linda pops her head around the door, easing into the room and giving Callum a wide smile.

“Morning,” she says, the laden scent of coffee awakening his otherwise exhausted senses. “I made you a hot drink.”

Callum smiles and takes the mug, thankful for the gesture. “What time is it?” 

“Only 8,” Linda offers. She sits beside him, the comfort of the disgruntled blanket beneath the pair. “You sleep okay?” 

“I mean, I’ve slept better,” he responds, glancing at his surroundings. “A sofa this size ain’t exactly cut out for a guy my size.” 

Linda hums in agreement, patting at the chair arm as though she were thanking it for trying anyway. “And that’s definitely the reason you ain’t slept well?” she queries knowingly, earning an exasperated sigh from the young man. 

_Ben. Jamie. Ben and Jamie, **together**._ Today was no different to any other day - it’s always a problem for Callum. _They_ are always a problem for Callum, and one he can’t escape, either. With the night before coming back into view, a familiar sense of frustration takes rise in his chest.

“He barely spoke a word to me all night, and then he just left,” Callum says, his voice lined with hurt. He tries to feign nonchalance, toying with the handle of the coffee mug. “And I get that he weren’t in the mood ‘cause they’d been arguing, but I’m supposed to be his best mate.” 

“Never mind supposed to be, you _are_ his best mate. That ain’t changed, Callum,” Linda reassures him. 

“Mmm. I just didn’t think Ben would ever let anyone but _himself_ call the shots, y’know? It’s weird.” Shaking his head, Callum stares intently at the coffee in his mug, like searching for the answers on the porcelain surface. 

Linda hums in agreement. “I get what you’re sayin, darlin’. Maybe he’s just getting a bit, I dunno, complacent. They ‘av been together for a while now.” 

Sighing in defeat, Callum relaxes back into the sofa. “I know, I know. It’s just...why can’t we just have one night where he ain’t thinkin’ about or talkin’ about _Jamie?_” 

Linda watches in amusement as Callum rolls his eyes and scrunches his nose up at the name, his tone mocking. “Oh darlin’,” she says, placing her hand reassuringly on Callum’s arm. “Your time will come, I promise ya.”

Callum gives her a small smile, the pair sipping their respective drinks in the comfortable silence that followed. Of course, he knows exactly what Linda is getting at. _Your time will come_, as if the problem here is purely romantic loneliness on his part. 

But Callum knows the problem here, being that he is absolutely, categorically **not** lonely. He doesn’t want somebody, he just wants _Ben_. 

And Ben isn’t an option.

...

There were many things on his agenda as he left The Vic that morning, a shower being the first and foremost. He definitely needed to change out of last night’s clothes, and some breakfast at the caf wouldn’t go a-miss. 

What’s not on his agenda, however, is Ben spotting him leaving the pub - no shower, no change of clothes, nothing. Callum darts in any direction, careless of where he’s actually headed and more focused on avoiding his friend at all costs, but Ben spots him and calls his name with enthusiasm. Callum stops dead in his tracks, willing the ground to swallow him up. 

“Alright,” Callum says, his voice attempting casual. 

Ben gives him the once over, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. “Did you even make it home last night?” 

“What are you on about?” Callum lies, well aware he’s probably over-acting this entire exchange. 

“You, comin’ out The Vic just now. Did you sleep there or summing?” 

Ben’s voice is laced with amusement, and Callum can’t quite work out whether the younger man is being serious in his accusation. 

“Been to see Mick and Linda, ain’t I?” Not a total lie, Callum thinks. “What about you? How come you’re up and about so early?” He diverts the conversation, though mindful not to mention Jamie for his _own_ sanity more so than Ben’s. 

“I took Lexi to school this morning. Promised I’d pick her up later as well and take her to the pictures, God knows what we’ll end up watching.” He looks up at Callum hopefully. “You don’t fancy it, do ya?” 

Callum doesn’t even try to hide how happy the prospect of an evening with two of his favourite people makes him. Grinning, he shrugs casually. “I ain’t got anything else on, so yeah, don’t see why not.” 

“Alright,” Ben says, patting his hand against Callum’s shoulder. The taller man hates the effect such a simple action can have on him, cursing himself for willing the touch to last a little longer. It was friendly and mindless to Ben, just an offering of gratitude from one man to another, and Callum knew that. “I’ll see you later, then.” Ben pulls him out of his train of thought. 

“Yeah,” he smiles. “Just let me know the time and I’m all yours.” Callum instantly cringes at himself, amazed at how often he basically hands himself to Ben on a plate, and even _more_ amazed at how Ben continues to remain oblivious. 

“Good to know,” his friend grins. “I’ll call you, okay?” 

“Okay.”

…

True to his word, Ben did call Callum, giving him a time to be ready for later that day. Sure enough, at 4 o’clock, Callum spots Ben’s car pulling over at the kerb by his flat. 

“Daaaad,” Lexi groans, kicking her legs against the back of the drivers seat in rebellion. “I thought we were going to watch a film.” 

“We are, baby.” Ben says, meeting her impatient gaze through the rearview mirror. “We’re just picking someone up first.” 

Lexi huffs, crossing her arms indignantly and looking the other way. “It’s not Jamie, is it?” 

Ben sighs, choosing to ignore her judgement. He thought perhaps after a whole _year_ of dating someone, his daughter would have warmed to them by now. He thought wrong, and Lexi made sure he knew that at every opportunity she could. He rose above it though, convincing himself that it’s just because she’s a problematic child. “No baby,” he reassures. “It’s not Jamie.” 

Ben watches his daughter as she presses her hands to the car window, narrowing her eyes in curiosity as she tries to make out the figure coming out of the front door and towards them. 

“Callum,” she squeals, a slightly toothless grin spreading across her face, and Callum smiles with her, opening the car door and reaching into the back to give her a high five. 

“Hello, you!” He’s still smiling as he fastens his seatbelt, turning to the man in the driving seat. “Alright?” 

Ben mirrors his smile. “Alright,” he says back. 

“You never said Callum was coming, Dad!” Lexi chirps up from the back of the car, kicking the back of his seat again, this time with bouts of unapologetic enthusiasm.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, princess,” he says, pulling the car away and setting the trio en route, and Callum feels touched that Lexi thinks highly enough of him to warrant his presence being a good surprise. Although, truth be told, he felt exactly the same about her. 

“I thought I was going to be stuck with Daddy and his boyfriend,” she says flatly, earning herself a stern look from Ben. 

“Errr, Lex! Enough of that, thank you madam.” 

Callum, despite feeling purely elated that Lexi felt the same about Ben’s relationship as he did, senses the shift in atmosphere at the mention of Jamie. He submises from Lexi’s lack of retaliation that the pair had had this exchange a few times before, and Ben hadn’t exactly looked surprised when she came out with it, either. He just looked, well, _drained_ more than anything else. 

“How is he?” Callum asks, quietly. “Jamie, I mean. Did you two sort everything out, or…?” 

Ben stops at a set of traffic lights, looking across at his best friend. “We’re alright,” he says dismissively. “He was full of apologies this morning, said he was gonna take me to dinner tonight to make it up to me.” 

Callum meets his gaze with confusion, relieved of course, but baffled nonetheless as to why Ben was on his way to the cinema instead. “So…?”

“So, I told him I’d promised Lex a trip to the pictures.” 

The older man can’t help but feel a pang of guilt that he’s here instead of Jamie, especially if they were meant to have plans. The last thing he ever wanted to do was interfere when it came to Ben’s happiness. “Why ain’t he coming instead of me, then?” 

Ben seems unphased, as if anything else was out of the question, and it makes Callum’s heart skip a beat. “Because I’d already asked _you_, ya muppet,” he muses. 

Callum can’t suppress his smile. “I‘m honoured, but…” he pauses, approaching with caution. “...Don’t he mind?”

Ben’s silence is borderline uncomfortable, fixing his gaze on the road ahead instead, and Callum instantly wishes he’d never asked. He takes a quick breath, ready to try and ramble his way out of it, when Ben speaks first. 

“Well, it’s not like I can take Queen of Sheba anywhere with him, can I?” he gestures his head towards his daughter in the back, and she takes pride in agreeing with him, shaking her head with gusto. 

Callum laughs, just as grateful as Ben seems to be for the slight diversion. He is both bemused and bewildered at Lexi’s unapologetic lack of approval. It made him happier than he would ever care to admit. “Right,” he says, willing to keep spirits high. “Let’s get some music on, what do you say, Lex?”

…

When they park back up in Walford, it’s only around 7pm. With Lola and Jay having taken off to the West End for the evening, Ben has Lexi all night, and she had spent the majority of the journey home trying to convince Ben to have _Callum_ all night, too. 

“Is Callum coming to ours for tea, dad?” She’d quizzed him tirelessly. 

“You’ve had tea, baby.” 

“No I haven’t…not a proper tea,” she corrected him, and Callum had laughed heartily at her persistent pushing of Ben’s buttons. “Can we get pizza?”

“You had a hotdog at the cinema, Lex.” 

“You ate half of it, dad!” 

He had looked to Callum for support, who simply added, “she’s right, you did,” much to Ben’s annoyance. 

And so, with two against one, they find themselves heading towards Ben’s newly rented flat with the intention of ordering pizza. Lexi is skipping joyously between the two men, her small hands being held tightly on either side, and Callum can’t help but feel like he’s part of a real family unit, each of them jagged pieces of a senseless puzzle that somehow, when together, create an imperfectly **perfect** picture. 

The sound of Ben’s ringtone pulls Callum instantly from his thoughts, and the three stop in unison as Ben grabs his phone from his pocket.

“Hello? Ye--yeah, we just got back.” 

_Jamie,_ Callum assumes. 

“We’re heading back to mine, now...nah, we ain’t had dinner. Lex wanted pizza, so…” Ben continues, looking at his daughter and Callum apologetically as they hang around waiting for him. “Okay...no no, it’s just, well it’s just Cal was coming too, that’s all.”

_Was,_ Callum notes. Past tense. He feels himself hold onto Lexi’s hand that little bit tighter, overanalyzing every last word spoken by the shorter man until he hangs up the phone.

“Jamie?” Callum asks. 

“Yeah,” Ben says, shuffling awkwardly. “He, uh, he’s coming round for pizza.” 

“Oh,” Callum tries to keep his disappointment under wraps. “Well...another time then, yeah?”

“Of course.” Ben reaches out to touch Callum’s shoulder, a parallel to their moment outside of the Vic earlier that day. This morning, it had felt cheerful and friendly, but now? Now it just felt like a massive kick in the teeth. “I’m really sorry Callum, if I hadn’t already turned him down this morn—”

“You ain’t gotta justify yourself to me, Ben,” Callum interrupts, forcing a smile. “It’s fine, honestly. Listen, I could do without the calories, anyway!” He jokes, poking at his own stomach to try and lighten the mood a touch. It seems to work, Ben grinning back. 

“Yeah, well you and me both,” he jibes, giving Callum a prod to the stomach himself. “Thanks for comin’ tonight.” 

Callum’s lips thin out into a smile, as if Ben ever had to thank him for spending time with him and his daughter. “Really, it’s fine.” He turns to Lexi, the youngster evidently upset with Callum’s sudden change of plan. “I’ll see you soon Lex, yeah?” 

She says nothing, rather staring at the ground and pouting. _Silent treatment,_ Callum thinks. _Classic._ He ruffles her hair regardless, giving Ben a nod of farewell before the pair continue their walk home without him. 

He looks on for a short while, watching as Lexi tugs at Ben's arm repeatedly. 

“Why have we left Callum, dad?” And then, when the response from Ben isn’t instantaneous, “daaaaad,” she'd whine. 

Still, Ben doesn’t let up, rather picking her up and swinging her over his shoulder, her eruption of laughter proving Ben’s distraction technique to be a success. Walking towards his newly planned evening, he leaves Callum, even in these small moments, to let Ben go all over again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An atmosphere is created as Callum continues to spend time with Ben and Lexi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had some bloody lovely feedback for this story so far and it means the absolute world to me. I can't thank everyone enough. I will keep updating as often as I can, I just want to do it justice!!
> 
> Hope this chapter is okay for you all :) 
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

As weekends go, this was _definitely_ one of the worst Callum had experienced in a long while. It had been unproductive, anti-social, and frankly depressing as _hell._ He hadn’t seen Ben since Friday evening after he left with Lexi and...well, come to think of it, he hadn’t even heard from his friend, let alone been graced with his presence. Sure, Callum had called him a couple of times, but Ben had never got back in touch, and there’s only so much dignity that Callum was willing to put on the line. In the end, he just assumed Ben was too busy to talk.

Short of plans, Callum had spent most of his time in the funeral parlour, busying himself with paperwork and errands to get a head start for the week, and he hadn’t even left his flat in the evenings, making the most of the peace with Stuart and Rainie being out of town. 

Still, it was unusual for Callum to go a whole 48 hours without speaking to Ben, and truth be told, _he really missed him._ So, he heaves himself away from yet _another_ episode of Bake Off to retrieve his charging phone, deciding to try calling Ben again. 

This time, he gets an answer.

“Callum!” His voice is cheerful down the phone, and Callum’s lips curl into a smile at the prospect of Ben being pleased to hear from him. “Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine. I just…” the older man pauses. _I just missed you,_ he thinks. “I just wanted to check if you was alright. You ain’t returned my calls, that’s all.”

“Returned your calls? I ain’t had any missed calls off you, Cal.” 

“Oh,” Callum mumbles, briefly pulling his phone away from his ear and looking at it in confusion. “Well I, uh, I definitely called you.”

“Hmm.” There’s hesitation on Ben’s side of the line. “I dunno, I thought you was upset with me ‘cause of the whole pizza thing on Friday.”

The older man furrows his brow at the caution in his friend’s voice, as if Ben _ever_ had to be concerned about upsetting Callum intentionally. “Come on, Ben. You know me better than that.” 

“Where pizza’s concerned I think **any** reaction is warranted, don’t you?” Ben jokes, and Callum smiles - the most natural thing in the world when talking to Ben, it seemed. 

“True.” Callum pauses in thought, peering at the clock. _7pm._ “I mean, I ain’t doing anything now if you fancy a pint or...or summing?” 

Ben sighs. “I’d love to but I’ve got Lex. _Again._ Seems Lola put a holiday in for this weekend’s parenting duties,” he says sarcastically. “Lex, no! We ain’t...don’t look at me like that.” 

Callum can’t help but smirk, amused at how the young girl is evidently causing Ben havoc in the background. “Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, well, I mean _no_...Lex, it’s too early, darlin...sorry Cal, she’s doin’ her nut, adamant she ain’t goin’ to bed until we put the Christmas tree up.” 

“It’s November.”

“Just don’t,” Ben says, bluntly. “Listen, if you’re free though, you could come round? Lex, what if Callum comes round?”

He hears Lexi in the background, her excitable little voice making Callum’s heart soar. For a second, he wonders about Jamie, but he doesn’t suppose Ben would be asking him round if Jamie was there. In fact, he knows for _certain_ he wouldn’t be. 

“I’d, uh, yeah...I can come round if ya want,” he agrees, already hurrying into his room to grab some shoes, phone pressed tightly between his ear and shoulder. “Shall I bring anything with me, or…?” 

“Just my will to live, if ya find it on the way,” Ben says, obviously exhausted by his daughter’s attitude, and Callum laughs fondly. 

“Alright, I’ll set off now.” 

…

When Callum arrives at Ben’s flat, it’s Lexi who answers the door. She throws her arms around his middle, Callum crouching slightly to hug her back as best he can. He smiles as he notices the pyjamas she’s wearing - white legging-like bottoms and a grey long-sleeved top with an animated christmas pudding smiling boldly in the middle of it, sparkling holly leaves aliking the glint of contentment in Callum’s eyes. He’d bought her those last Christmas. 

“Nice PJ’s, Lex.” 

“You got me them, _silly,”_ she retorts, her voice matter-of-fact. Taking Callum’s hand, Lexi pulls him into the living area, and he can almost see the fond memories of decorating the place with Ben etched in every painted wall. 

Jamie had been away on business when Ben made the initial move, meaning Callum could dutifully step in as co-decorator. Bar the odd input from Jay, Callum had been there for it all - the choosing and buying, the painting, the wallpaper-ing, the re-arranging. He was even there to see Ben through the turmoil of building up flat-packed furniture. It honestly felt like his flat just as much as Ben’s. _Their_ flat, even. Their home. 

And moments like this only solidified that feeling further; walking into the living room with Lexi, finding Ben on the sofa with his feet resting on the coffee table, nursing a beer and grinning as Callum enters. 

“That was quick,” he remarks, standing up and making his way towards the pair. Callum feels a slight blush rising in his cheeks; he _had_ pretty much leapt off the sofa as soon as Ben mentioned him coming round. 

“You ain’t _that_ far from my place, Ben,” he reasons, coyly. 

Ben smiles, crouching in front of his daughter. “Listen, I ain’t complaining. Someone’s gotta help me sort this monkey out.” He tickles Lexi, the young girl flailing in protest and giggling adorably, before re-focusing his attention on Callum. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? A _drink_ drink?” 

Callum smiles at the phrase. “A _drink_ drink would be great, actually.”

...

Lexi clambers onto the sofa, getting herself comfortable as Callum leans against the doorframe between the living room and the kitchen, each four walls an emblem of small, shared moments as his head continues to swim with memories of decorating the flat. 

He clocks a photograph on the fridge door as Ben swings it open, a small, red magnet holding it in place. Callum instantly recognises it as the picture Jamie had sent to Ben in the post whilst he was in the midst of the move, given that his boyfriend wasn’t present for any of it. Scribbled on the back of the photograph was, quite literally, _’stick this on the fridge’_, and Callum remembers rolling his eyes into the back of his head when Ben had first showed him it. 

Jamie’s hair is a dirty blonde colour in the picture, clipped finely by the ears but tousled on the top, curls spilling over onto his forehead. His jaw is speckled with well-kept stubble, and the flash reflects off of the small, silver piercing in his left ear. Callum has no idea where the photograph was taken, but he does wonder if that _smarmy_ grin had made the designated photographer as nauseous as it made him. 

Of course, in contrast, there’s Ben. Ben and his smile that makes Callum’s heart beat a little too fast, those ocean blue eyes that glisten even on his saddest days. Ben, right now, in those loosely fitted grey joggers and a baby blue, washed out tee, moving around the kitchen. 

His hair looks _fresh-out-of-the-shower_ soft, the often-styled flick at the front looking a little more wayward and free falling, and Callum just wants to close in on the younger man and kiss him senseless there and then. 

“Earth to Callum,” Ben teases, peering up from the fridge and shocking Callum out of his train of thought. “Stop starin’ at my arse and answer my question.” 

Callum’s eyes widen, his entire being hurled into a flustered state of panic. “I--I wasn’t, that ain’t what I was--” 

“I’m joking, Callum,” Ben cuts him off, laughing. “It was a _joke.”_

Callum reaches into the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter and grabs an orange, throwing it at a very amused Ben. “Twat,” he whispers as he does so, conscious of Lexi being in the next room. 

Ben ducks out of the way in time, picking the orange up as it rolls across the floor and throwing it back into the fruit bowl. He smiles mischievously at Callum, who obviously can’t help but smile back. 

“As I was _saying,”_ Ben says, their eye contact solid, unwavering, making Callum feel electric. “Beer or lager?” 

…

They were halfway through Arthur Christmas when Callum had noticed Lexi was asleep. After some strong bargaining between herself and the two _supposed_ figures of authority, Lexi had agreed that they didn’t have to put the tree up as long as they could watch a Christmas movie. 

Ben loaded Netflix up on the TV, handing her the remote and telling her “after this, bedtime.” She’d settled comfortably between the two of them, selecting the film of her choice and leaving her dad in despair. 

“I ain’t seen this one, Lex!” Callum said with unhidden enthusiasm, cuddling her in a little closer.

Ben had rolled his eyes dramatically. “I have. This’ll be the fifth time,” he said through gritted teeth, earning a laugh from Callum and Lexi. 

Still, always willing to do whatever it took to make his daughter happy, Ben had settled comfortably to watch the movie, feeling a sense of security that he so often lacked these days. Even after realising Lexi was no longer watching, he made no effort to move, not wanting to disturb the peaceful slumber of the young girl nestled between them...not wanting to disturb the peace _he_ was feeling. It was tranquility amongst the otherwise chaotic narrative of his reality, and he wanted to bask in it. _Just for a moment._

And then, he hears the front door open. 

Callum looks at Ben in confusion. “Who’s that?” 

“I dunno,” the younger man replies. He reaches for the remote, pausing the movie and looking towards the door, awaiting the unexpected visitor. 

“Hello? Ben?” 

Callum’s heart drops in an instant, recognising the voice without a second thought. He glances at Ben, who is edging himself off the couch, still reluctant to disrupt Lexi. He inverts his brow at Callum, looking just as surprised as he is that Jamie has turned up, although not half as disappointed, Callum imagines.

“Jamie?” Ben says, walking towards the voice. 

“Yeah it’s me, the door was open so—oh.” He stops in the doorway, looking at Callum, then Ben, then back at Callum again. “Callum. Hi.” 

“Alright,” Callum says, although he can barely make eye contact. 

“Callum came round to help with Lex,” Ben says, giving his other half a quick kiss on the cheek and taking his bag from him. 

Callum wonders why he even has to justify such a thing. Sure, Callum has strong feelings for Ben, but Jamie doesn’t know that. Ben _certainly_ doesn’t know that. So why does his presence here feel so unlawful, not just to him, but obviously to Ben, too?

“I thought you was out all night at some work do?” Ben pipes up again, perhaps keen to interrupt Jamie’s forest green eyes _boring_ into his friend. 

“I was meant to be,” he replies, walking towards Callum with unabashed arrogance. He sits down on the sofa and Lexi stirs, shuffling a little closer into Callum’s side. “The guy I was staying with has been spewing his guts up since 3 this afternoon. There was no way he was making it to the end, so I thought I’d just make tracks.” 

Ben nods in understanding, making his way over to where Lexi is laid and crouching down in front of her sleeping form. “Well, I just need to put this one to bed and I’m, uh, I’m all yours,” he says, smiling at his boyfriend. Callum’s stomach knots at the thought, taking that as his cue to leave. 

“Yeah, I’ll, um, I’ll head back I think,” he offers awkwardly, lifting himself up to give Ben better access to his daughter. “Thanks for the, uh, for the beer.”

“Oh, of course...sure,” Ben stammers a little as he carries Lexi gently over his shoulder, careful not to wake her. “Thank _you_ for helping me get this one to sleep.”

“It’s my pleasure, really.” Callum’s smile is bittersweet. “I’ll see you round, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ben nods, re-adjusting Lexi in his arms. “Come on then, princess.” He heads towards her room, leaving Callum to attempt a civilised goodbye with his other half. 

“I, um...sorry. About, you know…I didn’t know you was round tonight and—well, I just didn’t—” he tries, hovering in the doorway, uncomfortable in Ben’s sudden absence. _Nothing._ “So...I’ll, uh, I’ll be off then.” 

Pressing his lips together, Callum accepts the silence that follows as the _only_ goodbye he’s getting in return. He turns his back, a little unsettled by Jamie’s presence and quite keen to leave. 

“You’re like a bad smell you, Callum.” he hears, his fingertips just settling on the door handle. 

Callum clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to turn around and cause a scene. “I’m sorry?” he retaliates, albeit calmly. 

“Always hovering about, ain’t ya? Can’t get rid.”

This time he does turn around, be it in shock, in confusion, in anger, in curiosity - Callum isn’t sure which. Perhaps all of the above. 

“Listen, I dunno what wires you’ve got crossed but...I ain’t...me and Ben ain’t...” Callum closes his eyes, trying to regulate his calm demeanour. He isn’t here to step on anybody’s toes, that just isn’t something he would ever do. Certainly not intentionally, anyway. “He’s my best mate. That’s all.” 

The other man nods, although judging by the look on his face, it doesn’t really seem as if he’s understanding it at all. He looks up at Callum from where he’s seated, although it’s merely eye contact; his body barely shifting. 

Jamie pauses, his posture almost chillingly calm. “Okay,” he says, refocusing on the television. “Can you, uh, shut the door on your way out?” 

Callum’s mouth hangs open slightly, shocked, bewildered, willing himself to say something, _anything,_ but the words just don’t come. He blinks rapidly, fingers finding their way back to the door handle as his forehead creases in confusion. 

“I, uh...yeah.” His voice is barely a whisper as he steps out into the cold, following instruction with a prominent clatter of the door. 

Almost as prominent as his ever-growing fear of losing his best friend to Jamie.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie's words get the better of Callum, but will he tell anyone what was said?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feedback I'm getting for this story is just so, so kind and encouraging, I can't thank everyone enough. 
> 
> There's been some fab speculation in the comments about how the story is going to pan out - truth be told, I don't even know myself to a certain extent, so please keep the inspiration coming, haha!! :D
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this xx
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

** _One year ago._ **

Callum stands in front of the mirror, rolling his shoulders in preparation and doing his best to attempt confidence. He adjusts the collar on his crisp, navy shirt, breathing _in._ Breathing _out._

“The thing is Ben, I’m in love with you.” A pause. “No, that’ll freak him out,” he says to himself, shaking his head.

_Right, try again._ He stares intently at his own reflection. “You ain’t just a mate, Ben...” Callum cringes. Definitely not. 

A shorter breath this time. _Less dramatic._

“Ben, I...I think I love you.” 

_Better,_ he reflects, but too hesitant. He doesn’t think, he _knows._

“Ben, I know that I love you..._shit,_ that don’t even make sense.”

Callum glances at the clock, groaning in frustration as he does so. He has approximately 20 minutes to nail this **and** get to the Prince Albert to meet Ben for seven o’clock, just like they agreed. Granted, he could call his friend and ask to push it back half an hour, but in all honesty he didn’t want to. That was just more time to talk himself out of it, which wasn’t an option. 

The young man reflects on the person he was 14 months ago, a brand new resident to Walford in search of a fresh start. Back then, he had no job, no flat, and he knew all of 2 people in the whole square - his brother, Stuart, and Stuart’s childhood friend, Mick. Having quit the army and told his monstrous homophobe of a dad that he was gay, there was nothing left for Callum where he grew up, bar the odd mate here and there, of course. So, with the generous offering of a place to stay from Mick, he had made the move. 

Since then, a hell of a lot had changed. He’d moved in with his brother, their relationship slowly but surely on the mend, got himself a job at the funeral parlour, made some pretty great friends and experienced pure, uncompromising happiness for the first time in his whole fucking life. 

But above all else? He’d fallen in love. 

The kind of love that Callum wasn’t sure even existed until he met Ben Mitchell. The all-consuming, selfless kind, where the other person’s happiness means so much more to you than your own. It wasn’t infatuation or delusion, he didn’t see Ben as this perfect person. Callum saw every single flaw in him. It meant nothing. _He loved him anyway._

Because Callum _also_ saw the way Ben was with his daughter, protective and caring, a little bit of a sucker every time she asked for something. He saw the Ben that respected the women in his life - never too busy to help his mum out, and stepping up to be the dad that Lola always wanted for their little girl. He saw the person behind the egotistical demeanour, the person that let his guard down to Callum about the relationship he always wanted, but would never have, with his dad. 

More than anything, though, Callum saw the person that saw **him.** Saw him through his first proper night out on the gay scene, seeing him drunker than anybody ever had before. Saw him through the repair of his broken relationship with his brother. Saw him through his first proper heartbreak when Callum discovered Chris, his almost-love from the army, had been killed. 

Ben saw Callum, and Callum saw Ben. 

Nothing else made sense but the two of them.

Tonight, he was going to let Ben know. 

…

When Callum arrived, Ben had beaten him to it, waiting at a booth in the corner with two beers already on the table. The older man couldn’t help but notice that Ben had looked a little, _well,_ apprehensive, but he seemed to relax as the evening progressed, just as Callum did with a little booze for courage. 

“Come on then, what’s the occasion?” Ben asks, grinning. “You’ve been pushing to see me all week.” 

“Errr, I ain’t been _pushing,”_ Callum defends himself. “Besides, I thought you’d wanna see me as well. S’been weird, you bein’ out of town for a few days.” 

Ben’s face softens, and that same look ghosts over his features that Callum had noticed when he first walked in. Blue orbs slightly glossed over, a frown line stretched across his forehead and an almost wistful smile. Nerves. _Apprehension._

“I always wanna see ya,” Ben confesses. “You’re my best mate. That ain’t ever gonna change, ya know that don’t you?” 

Callum’s stomach knots, his palms a little damp with sweat. He doesn’t know what Ben is getting at, nor can he tell if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. As always with Callum, this isn’t exactly how he’d imagined his big moment to go, but he was willing to roll with it. He needed the timing to be right. 

“Of course,” he says with sincerity. “Ben, I—”

“Good,” his friend takes a deep breath, unintentionally cutting Callum off. “Cause I, uh, I have something that I need to say, and I don’t wanna take away from whatever it is you brought me here for but I—”

Callum tries his best to restore calm within, undecided on what Ben was actually going to say, his head whirring with suggestions.

“Just spit it out, Ben,” he encourages with a smile, confident that his heartbeat is louder than the actual music playing in the bar. 

And then it all stops. His heart. That music. His whole world, even.

“I’ve met someone.” 

…

** _Present Day._ **

“Cheers mate, thanks,” Mick says, handing change over to the punter he’s serving before turning back to Callum. He rests his forearms on the bar, leaning towards the young man with narrowed eyes and a frown. “Go back a bit, son. He said _what_?” 

Callum sighs. “He said that I was like a bad smell. Ya know, one that you can’t get rid of.” 

“And what exactly did he mean by that?” 

“Well it ain’t rocket science, is it?” 

Mick shakes his head, pressing his fingertips into his temple to mitigate the risk of a _Ben-Mitchell-induced_ headache. “And you just let him get away with it?” 

“Well what was I supposed to do?” Callum scoffs, his tone hushed. “Sorry Ben, I know you got your hands full with Lex and all that, but I’ve just knocked your boyfriend out.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Mick scratches the back of his head, sighing. “I wouldn’t be bettin’ much on you comin’ out the winnin’ party either, son.” 

“Well, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence.” 

Linda emerges from out the back, grinning from ear to ear when she spots Callum. “Hiya!” she chirps, and Mick shoots her an unimpressed glare. 

She takes the cue, quickly noticing the dire state of the atmosphere and replacing her beam with a concerned frown. “Oh no,” she says, standing beside her husband. “Dare I ask?” 

“Ben’s fella has been givin’ him jip,” Mick whispers on Callum’s behalf. 

“Well I wouldn’t exactly call it _jip,”_ Callum interjects. 

“What would ya call it then? He weren’t exactly reciting poetry, was he?”

“Mick...” Linda slaps him on the arm, albeit not with much force. “Let him speak. When was this?” 

“Sunday night.” 

“Yeah, and the geezer’s still walking about wi’ two legs, five days later!” 

“Mick!” His wife looks at Callum apologetically, then back at the older man. “Ain’t you got a barrell to be changin’ or summing?” 

He holds his hands up dramatically, mouthing a little “just saying” before heading off to the cellar at the request of his agitated wife. 

Linda places her hand over Callum’s, rubbing soothingly with her thumb. “Have you seen him since, darlin?” 

“Nah, not really. I’ve passed him out n’ about a few times, small talk and all that kinda stuff, but...well, I’ve been tryna’ keep my distance, aint I?” 

“Keep your distance from who? Who’s nerves you been getting on, ey?” a voice pipes up in the background, two arms throwing themselves around Callum from behind and squeezing him tight at the shoulders. 

He rolls his eyes, smiling fondly nonetheless; he knows it’s Lola without even having to check. “I ain’t gettin’ on anyone’s nerves, thanks very much.” 

“There’s a few people gettin’ on mine, I can tell you that for free,” she mutters, perching herself onto the barstool next to Callum as Linda gets her a vodka and coke on request. Callum very nearly asks Lola to elaborate on _who,_ but she starts up again before he gets the chance. “Where you been, anyway? Ben said he ain’t heard from you much all week.” 

Callum shuffles in his seat, taking a sip of his pint in a bid to maintain a casual demeanour. “Oh, you know what it’s like. Just been busy with work n’ all of that.” He gestures to his attire, still suited up in his funeral parlour best. 

Lola raises an eyebrow at him. She looks largely unconvinced, knowing Callum better than he ever gave her credit for. “Mmm. You sure? Jay said you been a bit, I dunno..._weird_ at work, n’ that.” 

“Have you lot got nothing else to talk about, or what?” 

“We just worry about you babe, that’s all.” Lola takes her drink, thanking Linda and handing her the cash. “Listen, why don’t you come out tomorrow night? Me, Jay, you and Ben. I dunno, the Albert or summing?” 

His heart flinches momentarily at the sound of Ben’s name, and Jamie’s words circle his head like uninvited vultures, clouding true judgement.

_Can’t get rid._

“I, uh, I dunno if that’s a good idea, Lo,” he starts. “Besides, I promised Jay that I’d do th-” 

“Promised Jay what? That you’d do the filing? On a Saturday night?” she eyes him up in suspicion. “Pull the other one, Cal, this is me you’re talking to.” 

But he remains silent, hands fiddling with the beermat on the bar, no idea what to say. He couldn’t exactly tell Lola, could he? If he tells Lola, she’ll tell Jay, who will tell Ben, who will tell Jamie, who will undoubtedly lie and fuck up Callum’s friendship with Ben. And that’s the very last thing he can afford to lose, right now. 

“It ain’t gotta be a wild one, Callum,” she reassures. “Just a few drinks with your three best mates, hmm? It’ll do you good to get outta this for once, don’t you think, Lind?” Lola grabs at his tie and starts to undo it, messing up his collar a little bit as she does so. Linda glances at Callum, caring but stern. 

“You,” she says, tapping him on the nose. “Get yourself out.” 

…

The following morning, Callum had awoken a little uneasy. With a gut feeling that he just couldn’t shake, he considered cancelling his evening plans with Lola on multiple occasions, almost certain that it would cause problems for Ben and Jamie.

On the other hand, he was desperate to go, because this entire week had been a little bit lonely. Every time he’d spoken to Ben in the square, Callum had wanted to scream. _Cry,_ even. He’d wanted to ask Ben if he was a burden, wanted to find out whether, if given the choice, Ben would choose his boyfriend or his _best friend._

And believe him, he felt like such a terrible person for even thinking like that. Because, on the night he found out about Jamie, Callum promised himself that he wouldn’t let his feelings for Ben get in the way of his relationship, and yet here he was, being told in not so many words that he needed to back off. 

Then again, this gut feeling wasn’t anything to do with Callum and his emotions, not _really._ It was about Ben, and how Jamie would act towards Ben if Callum didn’t take a step back. Don’t get him wrong, he’d never been a fan of his friend’s other half for a lot of reasons. He was arrogant, self-absorbed, inconsiderate and rude, he never told Ben how special he was and he was as much use with Lexi as an _inflatable dartboard._ Still, everytime Callum tried to tell Ben this, his opinion was dismissed or, more often, the subject was changed entirely.

But there had been something in Jamie’s aura last Sunday that had unnerved Callum. He wasn’t scared of him, _per se,_ but something about him was, well, a bit _off._ The last thing he wanted was to put Ben in a position where Jamie would give him a hard time, especially over something that Callum could easily prevent. 

And so, that had been his mind made up. He was going to text Lola and tell her that he couldn’t make tonight. He’d let the dust settle over the next couple of weeks, and then _maybe_ he would consider going out another time. 

Of course, Callum was deluded to think it was ever going to be as simple as that, and no more than 20 minutes after he had sent the text, there was a knock at the door. 

He’d pressed the buzzer to see who it was. 

**Ben.**

…

“Oh come on, Callum,” his friend says, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. “It’ll be a laugh!” 

“I ain’t sayin’ it won’t be, I just don’t feel well.” 

“That’s _bull._ Lo reckons you was well up for it last night.” 

“I think _well up for it_ is a bit of an overstatement,” Callum says flatly, rolling his eyes.

The younger man exhales loudly, silence threatening to follow. “What’s goin’ on, Cal? I feel like you’ve been avoidin’ me all week, ‘av I done summing wrong?”

Ben walks towards him, hands slotting into his pockets and eyes concerned. Callum should’ve known that Ben would see through him. He always did. 

“No, no, course you haven’t. I’ve just...I’ve just had a busy week, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Ben says with understanding, reaching out to place a tentative hand on Callum’s elbow. “All the more reason to come out, then. Ya know, a chance for you to let loose a little bit.” 

“Are you callin’ me uptight?” A smile pulls at the corner of Callum’s lips. 

“As if,” Ben smiles back. “C’mon, mum’s on shift tonight, as well. She ain’t seen you in ages, she misses ya. You’re like the son she always wanted.” 

Callum scrunches his nose up. “The son she always wanted? She’s got you n’ Ian,” he reasons, confused. 

“Yeah,” Ben raises his eyebrows. “Exactly.”

Their laughter fills out the space around them, and Callum finds himself to be borderline _frustrated_ that Ben has already made the temptation to cave so much stronger. But, he can’t just ignore the words clawing at his throat, desperate to be spoken, and if there’s any chance of him agreeing to tonight’s plans at all, he needs to know that he’s not landing himself, or Ben, in any kind of difficult situation. 

“What, uh…” Callum starts, walking over to the couch and sitting down casually. He tries his best to sound as nonchalant as possible. “What’s Jamie doing tonight, then?” 

Ben shrugs, sitting beside his friend with an exhausted sigh. “He ain’t around this weekend, so I’ve no idea.”

“Oh.” Callum feels the weight on his shoulders physically alleviate. “Away with work?”

“I think so,” Ben muses. “He did tell me, but I-”

“You weren't listening?” Callum can’t help himself, but that’s okay. Ben doesn’t seem to mind.

“No,’ he grins. “I forgot. Anyway, stop changin’ the subject, are ya comin’ tonight or what?” 

There’s a pause. “I’ll think about it,” Callum lies, his mind having changed the _second_ he heard that Jamie was out of the picture. Besides, with the way Ben was looking at him right now, how could he have ever really refused?

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“Good,” the younger man says, standing up and tapping beneath Callum’s chin with his index finger. “I’ll see you later, then.” 

“Err, you _might_ do.” 

Ben turns before he reaches the door, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“I better.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those closest to Ben start to see through him as his own emotions unravel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I cannot thank you all enough for the support I've received for this story. You're all a dream, I'm having an absolute blast writing it!!
> 
> This is what I'm calling part 1 out of 2 for the ''Big Night Out'' (really not that big, it's just the night out is split into 2 chapters lmao)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy xx
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

“Stuart!” Callum yells, seething. He grabs the new, white button-up off of it’s hanger, careless of any potential damage seeing as though the damn thing isn’t wearable, _anyway._ “Stuart!” 

“We’re under the same roof, bruv, you ain’t gotta shout,” he hears, and then a head peeks it’s way around Callum’s bedroom door. “What’s goin’ on?”

The younger man scoffs, glaring. “What’s goin’ on?” His volume increases. _“What’s goin’ on?_ Well, not this shirt, that’s one thing for certain.” 

Stuart enters Callum’s room properly, looking at his brother as if he’s lost the plot. “I’ve no idea what you’re talkin’ about, bruv…”

“This, _bruv,”_ Callum interrupts, his tone sharp. “I’m talkin’ about this!” He waves the shirt in the air furiously, and realisation washes over Stuart’s face. 

“I thought...I thought maybe you wouldn’t notice.” 

“You thought I w—” Lying the shirt out on the bed, the pair look in unison at the yellow-ish brown mark towards the bottom of the shirt, iron shaped and pain-stakingly obvious. “Are you winding me up? I only bought this today!” 

Stuart eyes up the garment a little gormlessly, trying his best not to smirk at his brother’s misfortune. “You could always just tuck it in.” 

“When ‘av you ever seen me with a shirt tucked in?” Callum snaps. “Hmm? Never, that’s when. I asked you to iron _one_ thing, you ‘ad _one_ job—.” 

His outburst is interrupted by the sound of the buzzer, and Stuart heads out of the room to answer it, taking the opportunity to dodge further insult. 

“Pillock,” Callum continues, muttering away to himself. He pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor and continuing to rake through his wardrobe, trying to find a shirt that would suffice. The four are meant to be meeting at the Albert for 7:30, and right now Callum doesn’t even _know_ what time it is. 

There’s a brief knock on his bedroom door before it creaks open, and he doesn’t even bother to check who it is. 

“Stuart, I swear, unless you’ve come in ‘ere with a brand new shirt for me then—”

“Oh, sorry, I was...Stuart said to just—”

Callum’s stomach flips at the voice, turning quickly enough to give himself _whiplash._ For all him and Ben had been so close for so long, neither had seen any skin of the other that wasn’t simply face, neck or arms under a t-shirt. 

_Perhaps legs in shorts on a hot day._

But now, here he was, standing before his best friend in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, frozen still.

Ben looks Callum up and down. 

Once.

Twice.

On the third time, he catches himself, the slightest blush rising in his cheeks. 

The shorter man’s lips are slightly parted, eyes wide and stance awkward. Neither of them are sure how much time has passed, whether they’d been stood gaping at one another for 5 seconds or 5 _hours,_ but Callum is taken aback by the unfamiliar look in Ben’s eyes.

“I, uh...bit weird, innit,” he laughs, not really processing his own words. 

Ben looks at him puzzled, jumping slightly at first as though he’d been snapped out of a trance. “S--sorry, what is?” 

“Me standin’ here, y’know...half naked.” Callum almost throws himself out of the window the second that the words leave his mouth, and he tries to play it down with a laugh. “I’m just, uh, I’m...I’m havin’ a wardrobe crisis,” he offers. 

Ben nods, “I can see.” He looks at the shirt laid out on the bed, scratching his nose a little awkwardly. “I just wanted to know if you was ready or not. We coulda gone for a couple, y’know, just me an’ you beforehand. I, um, I tried calling a couple times but…” 

“Yeah, I don’t even know where my phone is,” Callum buts in clumsily, glancing around at the mess in his room with his hands on his hips.

“S’fine. I’ll just, uh...I’ll leave you to get ready.” Ben’s head gestures towards the door.

“Oh, um, yeah.” Callum mumbles, giving himself the once over and realising that he’s still standing there topless. 

They both hover awkwardly, the atmosphere burning against the taller man’s bare skin.

Ben clears his throat. “I guess I’ll...I’ll see you over there, then.” 

“Yep. See you there.” 

And then Callum stares at the door, even after Ben has left. 

Once. 

Twice. 

On the third time he catches himself, his focus returning to a wardrobe full of more _wearable_ shirts. 

… 

It’s 7:30 on the dot when Callum arrives at the bar. Having chosen to wear the very same navy shirt that hadn’t been worn since the nightmare of _“I met someone”_, Callum feels that it’s almost as good as new. As good as he was going to get without that white shirt, anyway. 

He walks in with rehearsed confidence, although truth be told he’s really quite nervous. What if Jamie finds out he’s still, well, _hanging around?_ What if Ben feels uncomfortable because of earlier? What if Jamie somehow knows that his boyfriend has seen Callum topless? 

With endless irrational thoughts already giving him a head spin, he goes straight to the bar for a drink, Kathy as happy to see him as Ben had predicted earlier in the day. 

“Hello, darlin’!” she shouts over the music, gleefully. “I’ve missed that smilin’ face of yours, where you been hidin’?” 

“Oh, you know,” Callum muses. “Places to be…”

“People to see, yeah yeah I get it, come ‘ere you.” Kathy reaches over the bar, pulling him into a hug. “What can I get ya?” 

A hand rests on Callum’s back as he makes his drink order, the familiar scent of his friend’s favourite aftershave awakening his senses. 

“Found a shirt in the end then, ey?” Ben quips, giving his mum a smile as he asks for another drink, himself. 

“Couldn’t exactly turn up as I was, could I?” 

“Err, listen,” Ben finishes off the remnants of his beer, waving the empty bottle in Callum’s direction after he does so. “I can’t imagine any of the tottie in ‘ere complaining if you did.” 

“How much ‘av you had to drink?” Callum chuckles, borderline taken aback by the remark. He’s relieved at the lack of awkward tension that had been present earlier.

Ben rolls his eyes at his friend’s self-depreciation. _“So modest,”_ he smirks, taking their drinks off Kathy and paying for both. “C’mon. We’re just over at the back.” 

…

“Okay, how about him over there?” Jay points to a man on the dance floor, snaking his hips around with a tint of grey in his otherwise black hair. 

“He looks twice my age, Jay,” Callum retorts in disgust. 

“Yeah, _and?”_

_"And_ I’m lookin’ for a boyfriend, not a replacement dad.” 

Lola nearly chokes on her drink, laughing boldly at the remark. They’d spent the last hour discussing Callum’s disastrous excuse of a love life, and Jay had pointed out just about every male in the entire bar, each politely declined by Callum.

It isn’t that he doesn’t find any of them attractive, or even that he doesn’t have the nerve to approach them. As far as confidence goes, he has more now than he’s ever had, really.

It’s just that, well, he knows exactly what he wants in someone, too. And what he wants, of course, isn’t his to have. 

“Okay Callum, last chance an’ then I’m giving up,” Jay remarks, taking a swig of his drink. “Geezer in the green shirt, he’s standin’ next to the bird with the red hair, keeps lookin’ over at ya.”

Callum takes a quick look to keep the peace, humming in approval. “He ain’t bad, actually,” he comments. 

“You can’t be serious,” Ben huffs, grabbing a bit of the material from Callum’s shirt between his finger and thumb. “Blue and green should never be seen. That’s the sayin’, innit?” 

“Err, in fashion Ben, not in hook-ups,” Lola interrupts, looking at him in despair. “I can be wing-woman if ya like, Callum. I think he’s well cute.” 

Jay darts her a glare and she smirks, throwing her arms around her boyfriend and kissing him messily on the cheek. 

“I ain’t convinced he bats for the right team, actually,” Ben pipes up, Lola rolling her eyes almost instantly.

“Have you always gotta ruin it, Ben?” 

“I ain’t tryin’ to,” he says unconvincingly, staring the guy out with zero subtlety. “Just get a vibe.” 

“Stop starin’, will ya?” Jay knocks him around the back of the head, earning an over-dramatic “ow!” from his friend. “You’ll scare him off. We’re tryna’ help Cal out, ‘ere.”

“I don’t need helping out, Jay, honestly I-” Callum tries, doing his best to laugh off the whole thing. 

“I’ve got it,” Ben says, clicking his fingers to announce the light-bulb realisation. “I think red-head is his girlfriend.”

Callum sighs. 

“That’s bollocks,” Jay quips back. “No sexual chemistry whatsoever.” 

“Why don’t we go ask him?” Lola suggests.

“Err, no one is askin’ anyone anything,” Callum interrupts. “Can we please just drop it?” He attempts a smile. “Please. I wanna spend time wi’ you lot.” 

“Alright, alright,” Jay retreats, holding his hands up in mock innocence. “Message received. I’ll get the next round in, yeah?” 

…

As the evening progresses, Callum decides that 50% of getting positively mortal must be psychological. Having eventually diverted the group from the topic of his particularly _celibate_ lifestyle, he’d tried mixing his drinks, he’d been on the spirits, and now he was stooping to shots, because **nothing** else seemed to be working.

Don’t get him wrong, he could feel the alcohol to a certain degree; hazy vision and a significantly louder tone of voice than usual telling him that he’s tipsy. 

But, drunk? Definitely not. 

“What’s the strongest shot in ‘ere, Kath?” he asks, his eyes scanning the range of drinks behind her. 

Her nose scrunches up in disgust. “I dunno, darlin’, I ain’t touched ‘em in years. Probably for the best though, innit,” she laughs. “Tequila, maybe?”

Callum laughs with her, his vocal loud over the thrum of the music. “Go on then, tequila it is.” 

“Make that two please, mum,” a voice sounds over his shoulder, and Kathy rolls her eyes, nodding all the while. He casts a glance to his left as Ben arrives at the bar, relaxing in his presence almost imminently.

“Our company _that_ bad, is it?” he asks Callum, nudging him jokingly. 

“Just thinking about that shirt,” Callum quips back, smirking. “Got no choice but to drown my sorrows, ‘av I?”

Ben grins. “I like this one, though,” he says, grabbing the collar gently. “Don’t think I’ve seen it before, is it new?” 

He opens his mouth to answer when Kathy graces the pair with two tequila shots, saving Callum from reflecting on the last time he wore the navy get-up. “Here you go, my loves,” she says, grinning widely. “I ain’t got any lemon and I ain’t got salt, either, so that’ll ‘av to do.”

Picking up their respective shot glasses, the pair knock back the tequila in unison, Callum excruciatingly close to spitting his right back out. He squeezes his eyes tight shut as his throat is scolded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Another?” Ben laughs, a look of disgust etched on Callum’s face.

“No chance,” Callum says, heaving. “I actually think I’m gonna be sick.”

Kathy winces, suddenly looking a little concerned. “Do you need some water?” 

“Here, ‘av a drink of this.” 

An arm extends itself out to Callum, a glass of water in hand. Before Ben has the chance to do anything, his friend takes the drink, downing it without hesitation. 

“Err, what is wrong wi’ you? There could’ve been anythin’ in that,” he flaps.

“You’re so dramatic,” Callum remarks, pulling a face. “Thanks for that, I honestly thought I was gonna...” he turns to his right to acknowledge the figure behind the gesture, realisation dawning on him. “...Of course, _the guy in the green shirt,”_ he mumbles with a laugh, his brain eventually catching up. “S-sorry, I ain’t been...it’s just I saw you before and-” 

“It’s fine,” the man says, smiling. “I _am_ the guy in the green shirt, I guess...” 

Ben fails to suppress an eye-roll, still hovering on the left of his friend and earning himself a side-eye from his mum.

“...but, uh, Adam works, too,” he finishes, offering a hand out to Callum who, after a momentary pause, accepts the handshake.

“Callum,” he says. “I, uh, don’t usually drink shots.” 

Adam smiles, sincerely. “I don’t usually _drink,_ y’know, hence the water.” 

Ben scoffs. “Bit borin’, innit?” he pipes up, listening in, and Callum gives him the look of a thousand words. Confused, of course. A little pissed off, perhaps. _Don’t be so rude,_ maybe? 

The older man clears his throat, gesturing to his left. “This is, uh, this is my mate, Ben.” 

“Ah, the one who thought I was poisoning you,” Adam chuckles, offering the same hand out to the younger man. 

Ben narrows his eyes, his handshake firm and all but polite. “I like to err on the side of caution.” 

He feels a sudden hand rest on his arm, pulling him away from Callum. _His mum._ “Why don’t you go and _'err on the side of caution'_ with Jay an’ Lola over there,” she whispers with a knowing look. 

“Charmin,” he whispers back, indignantly. “I’m only lookin’ out for him.” 

Kathy pulls a face. “Leave it out, will ya? You’re doin’ that, what’s it called?” she pauses for a second, pensive. “That thing all you kids talk about where you get in the way of someone’s, y’know, _escapades.”_

“Cock-blocking?” 

“That’s the one,” she says, glancing back at them. Adam’s head seems to be thrown back in laughter as Callum says something in his ear. “You’re doin’ that! And, they’re gettin’ on alright, Ben.” 

“They only met two minutes ago, mum,” he retorts, refusing to look over himself. 

“Well, exactly. Give ‘em chance to get to know each other. You’ve got your fella,” she reasons, and Ben tries to suppress feelings of unease when she says it. “Let Callum ‘av a chance, alright? Without you peckin’ his head.” 

“Okay, I get it,” he says, sighing dramatically. “I’ll go back to my corner, shall I?” 

Kathy cups his face with her hand, tapping his cheek gently. “I’ll keep an eye,” she promises, leaving Ben to head back to Jay and Lola. 

Although he’d never say it aloud, his mum was right. He was far too bothered by this Adam guy, and it was _far_ too stressful for him to think about. Just like earlier, when he’d been _far_ too bothered by his best friend standing there shirtless; equally as stressful.

In fact, if he dwells on any of it for more than a second, Ben is certain he’ll go certifiably insane. 

And so, he doesn’t, rather going about the rest of the night the only way he knows how. 

Getting blind drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 will be up very soon, as it's a continuation of the night out!! <3 
> 
> So, keep your eyes peeled!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben makes a drunken decision that is bound to have consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go!! 
> 
> As promised, this is part 2 of the night out! I wanted to post it so soon after the last chapter because they literally flow _directly_ and it just made sense to do so. 
> 
> I really hope people enjoy this, thanks as always for the incredible support and feedback!! :) <3 
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

Observing from a distance, Lola grins. “I think he’s well in there, d’you?” she asks, watching Callum and the new gent at the bar. “Ben?” She glances over at him, waiting for a response. He shrugs petulantly, but his expression is blank and his body language uninterested. 

“What is the _matter_ with you?” she spits. “You’ve ‘ad a _right_ face on ya ever since you came back from that bar.” 

Ben takes a swig of his beer, his relatively intoxicated gaze finally shifting from its fixation on the bar area. “I ‘av _not_ got a face on me,” he retorts, his lips curling into an exaggerated, sarcastic grin. “See?”

“Convincin’ stuff, you should take up acting,” she grins back with equal sarcasm, and Ben flips her off with his middle finger. 

“Where’s Jay at wi’ these drinks, anyway?” he says, looking around and changing the subject.

“I dunno,” Lola shrugs, sipping her current beverage casually through a straw. “Maybe he’s got chattin’ to Callum and his new fella.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “It ain’t his _new fella._ Besides, y’know what Callum’s like, he’s gotta be wined an’ dined before he gives the green light to a bloke.” 

“Mmm. Explains why he got so sick of waitin’ for you, then.” 

Ben brings his drinking to a momentary halt, his brow furrowed. “Err, what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh come on, Ben.” she states matter-of-factly, eliciting a blank look from her friend. “Before you got wi’ Jamie, it was well obvious.” 

“What was?” he pushes, frustrated. 

Lola rolls her eyes, shaking her head at his oblivious nature. “Callum! He was completely-” 

“Guess what?” 

Their conversation is interrupted mid-sentence, and Ben looks up to find Jay approaching with Callum. He sighs, despairing.

“I got Walford’s latest lothario on my hands, ladies and gents,” Jay bellows with enthusiasm, rubbing Callum’s shoulders like something from the corner of a boxing ring. “Well, the gay version anyway…is there a different word for that?” 

Callum pulls a face. “Give over,” he says, handing Ben and Lola their drinks before sitting down. 

Lola grins, excitedly. “Well...how did it go?” she asks, shuffling along to give Jay room to sit, too.

“I mean, I got his number,” Callum replies, trying his best to play it down. “He was nice.” 

Lola gapes at him, waiting for further information. “Nice? _Nice?_ Is that it?” 

“That’s a death sentence for blokes, that is,” Jay mutters. _“Nice.”_

“Errr, I’m _nice,_ Jay,” Callum bites, and Jay reaches out to stroke his hair, jokingly. 

“You’re a diamond, ‘alfway. There’s a difference.” 

Amidst the laughter, Ben glances at the bar, searching for the green shirt. “Where’s he at now, then?” he asks, mostly to satisfy his own curiosity. 

“He was takin’ a friend home, designated driver an’ all that,” Callum explains, shrugging. “He said he might come back. Whether he does or not is another thing.” 

“Listen, for a catch like you, babe, how could he not?” Lola reassures, tapping his nose just as Ben stands abruptly, obviously uncomfortable with the topic.

“Right,” he announces, clapping his hands together. “More shots?” 

…

Evidently on some kind of mission from that moment onwards, Ben had succeeded in practically bleeding the bar _dry_ of shot liqueurs. 

Lola, being the supportive friend (she reckoned), had joined him in doing so. 

That’s why the four only actually _survive_ as a four until around 11pm.

At that time, Callum acknowledges that the standard of dignity has taken an evident dive, and by _'the'_ standard, he means _Ben and Lola’s_ standard. He’s honestly amazed they’ve even made it this far.

“Our Lex loves this one, don’t she, Ben?” Lola shouts, significantly louder than the close proximity of the two really requires her to be. Grabbing Ben’s hand, the pair scream _“Come on, Eileen!”_ in time with the song, Lola throwing her free arm into the air and, of course, knocking her drink into Jay’s lap.

“Lola, I…” Jay sighs, “Nice one, darlin’,” he says, flatly. Jay hasn’t ever been one to raise his voice at her, but he doesn’t exactly look amused. “I think it’s time we got goin’, don’t you?”

“Spoil sport,” she says, pouting. “I ain’t even drink..._drunk._ I...I ain’t even drunk. Tell him, Ben!” 

“I’ll put this one in a cab, I ain’t even attempting to walk back,” Jay says to Callum, completely ignoring Lola’s advances. “I can ask the driver to wait for him,” he gestures towards Ben.

“Nah, I’ll manage. Get her home safe, yeah?” 

“I will,” Jay smiles, walking away with Lola in tow. “I’ll see you round, bruv.”

“See ya.” 

Callum tips back the remnants of his beer, looking around to find Ben barely sitting up, his head dropping to the level of his drink. Reacting instinctively, he places his hand over the top of it so that Ben’s forehead lands against his skin instead of, _well,_ glassing himself. 

“Ben,” Callum says gently, propping the young man’s head back up. “Why don’t we go home, ey?”

“M’fine. I’ll get us...I’ll...get us an-another drink.” 

Callum laughs out loud. “No you ain’t,” he says, putting an arm around Ben’s waist and heaving him up. 

“What about Alex? Aidan, I mean...was…was it Aidan?” 

“It’s…” Callum pauses. There’s a time and a place for corrections, and _now_ isn’t one of them. “I’ll text him or summing. Say I had to go.” 

“I can walk on my own,” his friend offers, practically taking an entire chair with him as he tries to move. “You, uh, you w-wait. You wait for him.” 

“I think I’ll be waitin’ a while,” Callum rolls his eyes with a small smile, navigating Ben out of the bar. “C’mon.” 

…

Getting Ben back to his flat was definitely up there with one of Callum’s greatest achievements to date. Considering it was usually a 10 minute walk from the Prince Albert, perhaps 15 on a slower day, it had taken the pair just shy of half an hour to get through Ben’s front door. 

The younger man had demanded on several occasions that Callum should go back and wait for _“Alex...no Aidan...Andy, that’s the one”,_ insisting that he was perfectly capable of walking on his own. 

He’d then proceeded to try and pull Callum towards the Vic, almost pulling him over twice, because if he just kept drinking, then he “wouldn’t have to face the next day.” 

Callum wasn’t entirely sure whether he was talking about the hangover, Jamie’s return or perhaps just life _in general._ Either way, Ben was pretty adamant that Sunday wasn’t something he wanted to experience, and apparently more booze was the answer. 

After much back and forth, Callum managed to convince him that heading straight home was a much better shout, and eventually he was able to manoeuvre Ben into his bedroom. _Platonically,_ of course. 

“You gonna undress me?” Ben smirks, barely able to keep his eyes open as Callum sits him on the edge of the bed. 

Callum blushes, his face heating up at the thought that he’d worked so hard to suppress for so long. “Give it a rest, Ben, will ya?” he brushes him off. “C’mon, shoes off.” 

Ben leans in to try and help Callum, almost rolling forward off of the end of the bed. The taller man bats his hand away, helpless to do anything but smile fondly when Ben’s bottom lip sulks out. 

“Just let me do it,” Callum instructs, looking up at him through his lashes. 

Nodding, Ben lets a thoughtful silence settle between them, waiting as his friend successfully removes both shoes. He watches Callum intently, as though intricate work is taking place before his eyes. 

It could be down to the fact that he’s drunk enough to zone out, but then again, his features have softened. It’s like a light-bulb moment, fuelled with feeling. 

“He wouldn’t—he, Jamie wouldn’t ev...never do this for me,” he mumbles eventually, his words a little slurred, but prominent nonetheless. 

Callum swallows, unsure of what to say. _Of course he wouldn’t._

“What? Take your shoes off for ya?” he jokes dismissively, but he knows Ben is talking about something much deeper than that. He’s talking about Jamie never really taking care of Ben **at all.**

Still, Callum isn’t going to push it, not when there’s so much alcohol clouding his friend’s judgement. 

Ben goes quiet, staring at everything and nothing with a frown on his face. He looks perturbed. Intoxicated, yes, but lonely. _Vulnerable._

Rising from where he’s crouched, Callum sets Ben’s shoes aside and sits next to his friend on the bed. There’s no talking about it, no provoking Ben to say things he doesn’t mean. Just the two of them, one painfully drunk and one painfully _sober._

Callum doesn’t know which is worse, if he’s honest. 

The younger man takes a deep breath, as though he’s preparing to say something untoward, a little controversial. Their arms brush lightly as he inhales, and it all feels a little too intimate to Callum for such a small touch. 

“You, um, you diss-disappointed?” 

Callum glances at him, his expression perplexed. “About?” 

“Bein’ stuck wi' me. I mean...not with...” Ben sighs, clicking his fingers clumsily as he tries to jog his memory. “Y’know…”

“Adam?” 

“Adam,” he whispers, the penny seemingly dropping. _"Adam._ D’ya think he, uh...th-think he came back?” 

Callum lets out a breath, his gaze settled on his own fidgeting hands. “I dunno,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “Maybe.” 

His friend pauses in thought, swaying lightly in the haze of alcohol. “Well if I w-was this _Adam_ bloke, I would’ve come back for ya,” Ben trips over his words, smiling fondly all the while.

Nudging their shoulders together in jest, Callum lifts his line of sight to meet the other man’s gaze. “Yeah?” he says. 

Ben’s breathing is heavy and intense as he casts his eyes to Callum’s lips, and Callum knows exactly where this is going. 

“Yeah.” 

And then, Ben is pressing his mouth against Callum’s. 

It’s almost like testing the territory at first; soft but with purpose, and Callum’s breath hitches at the initial contact, taking a second to process it; a second to battle with the fact that this absolutely shouldn’t be happening. But, as Ben’s mouth starts to move against his own, his body fails him, melting into it like it’s the last thing he’ll ever live to experience. 

With little thought behind it, Callum brings his hands up to either side of Ben’s face, deepening the kiss, relishing in the taste of him. It’s everything; hot, passionate, rushed, but not in the sense of having to be quick. 

More in the sense of wanting one another _far longer_ than two people should ever have to wait. 

Ben shifts from his position beside Callum, barely breaking their lips apart as he straddles a leg either side of him, and Callum can feel that Ben is hard as the younger man grinds his hips down. 

He gasps against Ben’s mouth at the contact, and Ben works his hands up to the buttons on the other man’s shirt, his little breathy moans making it so difficult for Callum to stop. 

But he knows he can’t do this. 

_They_ can’t do this. 

“Ben, _Ben,_ don’t,” Callum grabs his wrists, pausing the motion of his hands. “Stop.” 

Ben doesn’t put much distance between them, their faces still close, noses almost touching. He looks confused and hurt and still _hellishly_ blissed out. 

More than anything, _fuck,_ he looks like everything Callum has ever wanted. 

**But not like this.**

“Wha-what’s wrong?” Ben breathes.

Callum closes his eyes, desperate to say ‘nothing’ and to just carry on. To _forget_ the fact that Ben only wanted him because someone else had shown an interest. To _ignore_ the fact that Ben only wanted him because he was otherwise alone tonight. 

But, he can’t spare his own feelings like that. Not when he loves Ben _this_ much, and has done for so long. 

“You're gonna regret this,” he whispers, his voice threatening to break.

Ben frowns at Callum in confusion, "no, I ain't." He leans in, blue eyes translating his desperation to reignite the kissing, obviously not acknowledging the hurt in the older man’s tone. 

Callum puts further distance between them, pushing Ben off of him. It’s gentle, of course, but forceful enough to accentuate his message. “You will, Ben. I know you will." 

Ben staggers slightly as he backs off of Callum, his drunken demeanour bringing them both back down to Earth, and there’s a deafening silence. Perhaps for seconds. Perhaps for minutes. 

“M’sorry,” Ben mumbles in time, sitting back down on the bed. He looks exhausted, his once flushed cheeks now drained of colour. “You're right. I, uh...I w-wasn’t thinkin’. I wasn’t thinkin’.” 

Callum’s throat feels tight, thick with emotion, and he isn’t sure he’ll manage to breathe for much longer, not if this conversation continues. He gets up in a sudden motion and heads for the door, neglecting the undone buttons at the top of his shirt. “Your, uh, your water’s just on the side, there,” he murmurs, pointing to the glass that he’d poured Ben earlier on the bedside table.

The younger man doesn’t look to the water. He doesn’t look at Callum. He doesn’t look anywhere but the floor, fidgeting with the silver ring on his finger. 

Callum takes that as his cue to leave, tears spilling over as he closes the door behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Callum face the consequences of the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 is here!! 
> 
> The response, as always, has been overwhelming. I feel like I'm friends with every single one of you reading and commenting on this fic - it means the absolute world and more. 
> 
> Here we go, let the (mild) angst commence!! 
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

The minute that Callum opens his eyes the next morning, he desperately wills for something to send him back over to sleep, and not just because he’d only managed two hours of it to begin with. 

He had tossed and turned a thousand times over, repeatedly checking his phone and, better still, unable to even justify _why._

What did he expect, _really?_ A text message from Ben? He didn’t even get that on a good day, never mind _now._ A phone call, a voice mail? _Sorry Callum, it wasn’t a mistake Callum, it’s always been **you** Callum._

It was never going to happen. And yet he longed for it, restless whilst the world lay peaceful. 

Come to think of it, he’d started longing for the call the second he walked out of Ben’s flat last night. And when it didn’t come then, he checked at home. And then just past midnight. Then half past the hour. So on and so forth. 

It got to the point where Ben having not called at 2:30am somehow warranted Callum checking his phone _again_ at 2:31am. 2:32am. 2:33am. 

All until he finally exhausted himself, doing what Ben had probably been doing the entire time. 

_Sleeping._

Knowing there’s little to no chance of him getting back over, Callum pulls himself out of bed, finally acknowledging the two unopened notifications on his mobile. 

_ **On my way back now! ** _

_ **Just me again - I hope you’re okay? Stayed for around 20 minutes, no sign of you at all. Was really good to meet you tonight, though. Hopefully see you soon x** _

_Oh, for fucks sake._

Callum throws the phone onto his bed, hoping for denial to transcend reality and _not_ have him face up to the fact that Adam returned to the Albert last night. 

_For Callum._

And Callum wasn’t there, nor did he bother to let Adam know. 

Because he was too busy _getting with_ his best friend who just so _happens_ to be in a long-term relationship. 

Of course, he knows he’ll have to text Adam back at some point. Believe him, he genuinely wants to. This guy was sweet and funny, handsome and, well, actually _single_, but he can’t bring himself to return a message at this moment in time. 

Not when the taste of Ben still lingers in his mouth, overpowering the rest of his senses. Even when Callum goes about his routine; has his usual morning coffee, takes a shower, brushes his teeth...none of it works. 

Ben is _still_ there, and it’s more obvious than ever that he always has been. 

Scarier than ever that he probably always will be. 

…

Ben got out of bed that morning and instantly regretted the decision. He’d already thrown his guts up at an ungodly hour during the night, and the minute that he’d opened his eyes, a prominent thud in his head had presented itself. 

Still, he felt he had no choice but to force himself into the shower, some kind of desperate and illogical measure to give himself some clarity and perspective on the whole night. 

Admittedly, a lot of it was a blur; he barely remembers even getting home. 

But, of course, the one part of the evening he wishes he _could_ forget is the most vivid memory of all. 

_Trying it on with his best friend._

Yes, there had been copious amounts of alcohol in his system. He’d freaked out seeing Callum with someone else and he’d been struck with the irrational idea that he was being replaced. 

And then, Callum had gone and done what he always did - he’d helped Ben out, cared for him, made him feel safe and secure. An overwhelming sense of adoration for him had clouded Ben’s better judgement, and before he had the chance to think anything through, they were kissing. 

True to Callum’s word, though, Ben regretted it. He regretted it because of the way Callum had rejected him. He regretted it because they were meant to be best friends, and Ben had a boyfriend of his own. 

He regretted it because he’d given himself a taste of something that he wasn’t _ever_ supposed to want. 

Something he wouldn’t ever _allow_ himself to want.

“Are you alive in ‘ere?” Ben makes out a voice coming from the entrance of the flat, his hearing a little hindered by the thrum of his headache as his thoughts are interrupted.

He waits for a figure to enter the living area, deciding almost instantly that nobody was worth getting off the sofa for. 

“Christ, you look green...shut that door Lex, will ya?”

Ben groans with little subtlety as his daughter bursts into the living area, tagging behind Billy. She runs towards the sofa, throwing her arms around her dad and grinning widely.

“Hello baby,” he says, pulling her onto his lap for a cuddle. 

Billy hovers awkwardly, hands tucked into his pockets. “Lo’ said you were ‘avin her today or summing.”

“Oh, did she now?” Ben retorts. His lips form a thin line as he grits his teeth, not at all surprised by Lola’s audacity. 

“Yeah, she, uh, she reckons she’s too ill to av’ her, today,” Billy mutters with a roll of the eyes. “I think she was out last night.”

“She was, ‘cause I was with her,” he announces, flatly. “I ain’t normally a dodgy colour, Billy.” Stroking Lexi’s hair, Ben lowers his voice. “Why can’t you ‘av her today, anyway?”

His daughter narrows her eyes at him, frowning. “Daaad, I heard that.” 

“Sorry, princess,” Ben says, kissing her on the head repeatedly. “Well?” 

“I got things to do today, ain’t I?” 

“I dunno, ‘av you?” 

Billy glares at him, unimpressed, whilst Lexi starts tapping Ben’s face excitedly.

“Daaad, can we go out for breakfast?” 

“Daddy ain’t feelin’ well today, baby,” he sighs, already at his wits end with the day. “Maybe another time, alright?” 

Lexi juds her bottom lip out, saddened eyes blinking up at him. “First you don’t want to look after me and _now_ you won’t-” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Alright, madam, _alright,”_ he interrupts, wrapped around her little finger as always, and she giggles as he prods her stomach funningly. “Don’t start the pity party, please. You win.” 

“Really?” she squeals, Ben’s headache progressing ever-so-slightly to borderline _migraine._

“Yes, Lex,” he grimaces. “Really. We’ll go for breakfast.” 

And, after Ben has taken yet _another_ lot of paracetamol in search of a miracle, that’s exactly what they head out to do.

...

Callum sits in the café, his head propped up by his hand and his phone screen-down on the table. If he checks to see whether Ben has reached out _one more time,_ he’s pretty sure he’ll end up throwing the damn thing against a wall.

Of course, he’d gone through the battle of _‘maybe I should just call him’_ more than enough times, but his conscience kept kicking in, telling him not to chase up a guy that has a boyfriend. Particularly when that guy is _meant_ to be your best friend. Oh, and he’s cheated on said boyfriend now with _you._

No. Callum definitely wasn’t calling Ben first. 

He takes a bite of his bacon roll, trying to allow his mind to wander elsewhere, like _what the hell he was going to say to Adam._ Callum had finally texted him back, just before he left the flat this morning, apologising that he’d had to leave and saying that it would be good to see Adam again, too. 

After sending it, he’d felt a wave of relief. At least he only had homewrecker on his conscience now instead of ignorant and rude, as well. Except Adam had replied just short of ten minutes later, asking Callum if he was free to meet up this week. 

Indeed, Callum is yet to reply to that text, so perhaps ignorance is still lingering on his radar. 

Even more so when he hears the voice of the very person he’d been hoping to avoid. 

“You find us a seat, Lex, and I’ll get our drinks, okay?”

Watching as Ben walks in with his daughter, Callum picks up his phone and starts scrolling through his camera roll in a feeble attempt to look busy. It only takes Lexi a few seconds to clock him in the corner, though, and he has no choice but to embrace her with open arms when she bounds over to him. 

“Hi Callum!” 

Ben doesn’t even get the chance to place a drinks order; his daughter’s words being enough to instantly get his attention. When he turns around, Lexi is clambering onto the chair opposite Callum and nattering away at him. 

Of course, Callum’s focus is entirely on Ben, no matter what the young girl is saying to him. He’s trying to listen, believe him he is, but his heart quite literally stops the minute that the younger man’s blue eyes lock with his own. 

Callum swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. “Alright,” he manages. 

“Yeah, uh, I’m good. I mean I’m...I’m payin’ for last night, but…” Ben pauses, walking over as casually as possible. “How’re you?” 

“Good. I’m, uh, I’m okay. A bit tired, but, uh-” 

“Where’s my milkshake, dad?” Lexi interrupts, high maintenance as ever. 

Ben sighs. “Two seconds, Lex, alright? Listen,” he crouches down in front of her seat, tapping her gently on the nose. “Why don’t _you_ go an’ ask your uncle Ian to make one for ya? Hey, you might even get it for free.” 

She huffs, hopping off the chair and making her way over to the counter, leaving Callum and Ben to face one another. 

It’s Callum who speaks first, although he barely even registers what he’s about to say himself. Does he apologise for rejecting Ben? Does he make out like he _hasn’t_ been wanting it to happen for the last 2 years? Does he even mention it at all? 

He has to. 

“Listen Ben, about, um, a-about last night-”

“Oh, you ain’t gotta explain yourself, Cal. I get it,” Ben says light-heartedly, brushing it off. 

Callum’s brow furrows. “S-sorry, I ain’t followin’. You get _what?”_

“Why you pushed me off, Callum. I ain’t, uh, I ain’t upset about it or anything, I-I shouldn’t ‘av done it.” 

The older man’s heart sinks, although he isn’t even sure why. He knew that Ben would say this kind of thing, he knew that Ben would regret it; he even told Ben that himself last night. “Okay. It’s just that, um, I-I don’t want anythin’ to change, y’know, between us,” Callum adds honestly.

Ben smiles with promise. “It ain’t goin’ to, alright?” He sounds sincere, of course, but none of this feels, well, _right_ to Callum. “It was just a drunken mistake.”

“Right, yeah,” Callum mumbles, feigning indifference. He scratches at his temple, awkwardly. “I, uh, I assume you ain’t gonna tell Jamie?” 

The deafening silence is Callum’s answer. He sighs, exasperated and confused. “Ben, do you...do you remember what ya said to me about him last night?” 

Ben meets his gaze with confusion, and Callum can tell straight away that he’s forgotten. It only further confirms the other man’s words, that their entire encounter was fuelled by alcohol. **Meaningless.**

“I-I’m sorry, I ain’t...I don’t-” Ben stumbles over his words. “What did I say?” 

“You, uh, you basically said-”

“Daaad, Uncle Ian says you _have_ to pay for my milkshake,” a small voice shouts up from over by the counter, cutting Callum off mid-sentence. 

Ben rolls his eyes, tutting at his older brother’s outright stinginess. “Is he ‘avin a laugh?” He turns swiftly in his chair, arm slung over the back of it. “What is wrong wi- you, Ian?”

“What’s wrong wi- me? I ain’t the one using my kid for _freebies,”_ Ian remarks.

“Your niece, Ian. Your niece,” Ben spits back, far too busy arguing to notice his phone vibrate on the table, the name that pops up catching Callum’s eye in an instant. 

_Jamie._

He can’t help but cast a glance at the content of the message itself, curious to know what the man had to say. 

_**Nearly home. Just calling at the caff and then I’ll be round.**_

At this point, Ben still hasn’t noticed. The back and forth between himself and Ian continues, even Lexi piping up with her opinion on the matter. Callum takes this as his opportunity to leave, submising that fewer questions will be asked whilst disruption is occurring. 

After all, the last thing he needs is Jamie creating a scene over Callum’s _‘inability to stay away’,_ especially after what happened with him and Ben last night. 

He pushes his chair back, still failing to recapture Ben’s attention. “I, uh, I’m gonna get goin’ anyway, stick Lexi’s milkshake on my bill, Ian,” Callum offers, patting his back-pocket to locate his wallet. 

“Wha-Callum, you don’t ‘av to,” Ben spins round to face him. 

“It’s only a couple of quid, Ben, it don’t matter.”

“I ain’t on about the milkshake, you _muppet,”_ Ben says, shaking his head at Callum’s gormless features. “I’m sayin’ you don’t ‘av to go.” 

“Oh, I, uh, I said I’d help Stuart out wi- summing,” Callum paints on a smile, handing Ian the cash. “I’ll just...I’ll catch you later, yeah?” 

He tickles the top of Lexi’s head affectionately before making a swift exit, giving Ben no opportunity to argue any further. 

… 

Callum had been gone all of _2 minutes_ when Jamie rocked up at the cafe. Having not read the text message beforehand, Ben simply sees the quick turnaround as a rather unfortunate metaphor for the mess he had gotten himself into.

Lexi had been all but impressed when her dad’s boyfriend arrived, her excitable and open demeanour around Callum quickly descending into silent and lacking interest. It was impossible for Ben **not** to notice. 

“You okay, baby? Are ya not enjoying that?” he asks, watching as she pushes her pancakes around the plate. 

Lexi shrugs, her gaze set on the food in front of her. “Just don’t feel well.” 

“Oh no,” Jamie feigns a gasp. “You ain’t been on the drink as well, ‘av ya?” He jokes, referencing Ben’s lingering hangover. 

She looks him dead in the eye, unimpressed as always by his attempt to talk to her. “No,” she says, bluntly. “I’m going to the toilet, Dad.”

Jamie smirks, seemingly unphased by her hostility as she leaves the table. “Never mind,” he whispers to himself, turning to Ben. “Who, uh, who was out last night, then?” 

Ben seizes up a little at the question, unsure of the best way to approach it. Jamie _knows_ that Callum is his best friend, he _knows_ that him and Callum hung around long before Jamie was on the scene. 

But _Ben knows_ that Jamie has a problem with their friendship; he seemingly always has done. And after what happened last night, the less questions asked about Callum, the better. 

In fact, thinking back to that night last week, when Jamie came home and Callum was round? 

No. Ben has no intentions of recreating that atmosphere. 

“Just, uh, just me, Jay an’ Lola,” he lies. 

Jamie lets out a small laugh. “Third wheeling, were ya?” 

“Summing like that, yeah,” Ben mumbles, his mind wandering straight to Callum and Adam at the bar. 

“No Callum this weekend?” 

And _there’s_ the dreaded question that Ben saw coming all along. Only, this time, it holds more weight than ever. He hasn’t got it in him to face it today, physically or mentally. 

“Ain’t seen him,” he shrugs. “We passed in the square once, I think. Not heard much else.” 

No disbelief hidden in his features, Jamie nods. It seems to be enough to chill him out; to get him off Ben’s back until he gets Callum out of his system. 

No further questions asked, no more mentions of his name. _Easier,_ Ben thinks. 

“I’m just gonna go check if Lex is alright, yeah? And then we’ll, um, we’ll head off.” 

“Alright,” Jamie smiles, giving Ben a small wink. “I’ll get this.” 

“I owe ya,” Ben says, grateful that Jamie doesn’t try and lean in for a kiss. 

He heads off in the direction of the toilets, leaving his boyfriend to pay for their breakfast.

Ian grins, possibly the only individual to match Jamie’s unapologetic arrogance. “So, this is for the pancakes, two full breakfasts, one strawberry milksha--oh, hang on, you ain’t gotta pay for the milkshake...err, one coff-” 

“Feelin’ generous are we, Ian?” Jamie raises his eyebrows. 

Ian frowns, primarily because he’s irritated by the young man’s interruption. “What?” 

“The milkshake, y’know, you knockin’ it off the bill.” 

“As if!” Ian remarks, mockingly. “Callum paid for it, that’s why. So, just the coffee and-” 

Jamie holds a hand up, bringing Ian’s recital of their bill to a further halt. “S-sorry, Callum...Callum who?” 

“Wha-how many Callum’s do you know, Jamie?” Ian asks, but his face remains motionless. “_Halfway._ He was in ‘ere earlier, sat wi’ Ben. Probably nursin’ their hangovers together, ey? £22.35 please, mate.” 

Jamie’s lips form a thin line as he pulls his card out. “Right. He was out an’all last night, was he?”

“Who? Callum?” Ian shrugs, handing Jamie the card machine. “Mum reckons he was the one carryin’ Ben home. It don’t surprise me where Ben’s concerned,” he rolls his eyes, taking the machine back and returning Jamie’s card. “Cheers mate, thanks.” 

“No,” Jamie says, gritting his teeth together and forcing a smile. “Thank _you.”_


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie makes his feelings apparent following Ian's revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello, I return with another chapter!!!
> 
> Just quickly, so no one really has to do any thinking at all, the start of this chapter is set 15 months ago (as stated) which is _**before**_ Ben has met Jamie.
> 
> (That is probs blatantly obvious) (But just to make extra sure lols) 
> 
> As always, the enthusiasm for this story fills my heart with joy beyond belief - I wish I could thank you all in person with the biggest hugs!!! 
> 
> Special shoutout to my gc mutuals - you're all incredibly encouraging and keep me motivated on the difficult days. 
> 
> Anyway, chapter eight let's do this!!!
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

**_15 Months Ago._**

“And you split up with him, because…?” Ben asks, grinning as he takes a sip of his pint. 

Callum is smiling back at him, equal contentment etched on his face. “Well, he was a bit of a snake, to be honest.” 

Ben laughs heartily. “A snake?” 

“Yeah, y’know, wanted me one minute, didn’t the next. Couldn’t keep up, he was always _slitherin’_ about,” Callum explains. 

His expression has fallen dead serious, but Ben struggles to suppress further laughter. “What’s funny?” he pipes up again. “Ain’t exactly qualities of my ideal bloke."

“Well, _define_ your ideal bloke,” Ben suggests, his sincerity breaking through. He’s grateful for the alcohol in his system, settling any nerves that brew beneath the surface. 

They’re sitting in the Vic, just the two of them, and the evening seems to be drawing to a close for everyone else in their surroundings. What started as a couple of quiet drinks had turned into both Ben _and_ Callum getting relatively drunk; drunk enough to start talking about past relationships. Failed flings. Exes. Firsts and lasts to this date. _Everything._

Granted, it was a light hearted chat, for the most part. Callum had moved to Walford over a year ago, and he already knows most of Ben’s past. He certainly knows about Paul; it was one of the first things Ben ever truly opened up to him about. He hadn’t been mentioned much tonight, Callum keeping any questions that he asked as far out from that topic as possible. 

In fact, Callum kept any questions he had to a minimum, full stop. Not by choice, it just seemed to be that Ben was the one doing all the asking tonight. 

“My ideal bloke,” Callum repeats, pensively. “That’s a, uh, that’s a good question.” 

Ben grins. “Well, come on then. I’m waitin’ for a _good answer.”_

Callum goes to speak, just before a sad expression falls upon his face, eyes radiating a thousand bittersweet memories. He pauses, eventually meeting Ben’s gaze. “Chris,” he says. “Just...just someone like Chris.”

Ben gives his friend a supportive smile, reaching a tentative hand across the table. He knows all about Chris, the guy Callum met in the army. His friend’s first proper love.

The first that was true to who he _really_ was, anyway. 

But, Callum doesn’t talk about him too much, especially not since he died. A little like Ben with Paul, really. But tonight, for selfish reasons, Ben pushes just a little further. He asks Callum what someone has to be to be ‘someone like Chris’. 

“Someone good,” Callum starts, no hesitation. _"Yeah._ A good heart. Good energy. He, uh, he always did the right thing by others, y’know? Someone kind and selfless,” he smiles, sadly. “It’d, um...it’d take someone pretty special.” 

Ben glances down at their touching hands, pulling his own away gently. He gives Callum an encouraging look. “You’ll find him, one day,” he says with confidence.

Because he knows that someone like Callum will naturally find someone like Chris. 

It’s just how the world works. 

“What about you, anyway?” the older man raises his eyebrows, keen to change the subject, Ben supposes. “Who’s your ideal bloke?” 

Sighing, Ben rolls his eyes. “Me, Callum,” he jokes, his greatest coping mechanism somehow eliciting a laugh out of his friend. “I _am_ the ideal bloke.” 

“Can’t argue wi’ that, can I?” Callum grins. 

_And, just for a moment, Ben wishes he meant it._

…

When Ben arrives home that night, no one seems to be around. He assumes Ian and Bobby are asleep, his mum perhaps working a shift at the Albert. Regardless, he’s grateful for the time alone. 

Grabbing himself a beer from the fridge beforehand, Ben takes a seat at the dining table. His head races with a hundred thoughts a minute, from Callum talking about how special Chris was, to the way Ben felt more at home with Callum’s arm slung around him than he did sitting here in his _actual_ home. 

He thinks about the words Callum used to describe Chris. 

_Good. Kind. Selfless._

They’re also words that Ben would use to describe Callum, but certainly not words he could **ever** use to describe himself. 

No, Ben has a tendency to destroy everything he touches. His entire reputation is built upon a _lack_ of kindness. Complete selfishness. 

Callum deserves the exact opposite of the person Ben is. 

A person like Chris. 

Or like Paul. 

And look what happened to _him_ when he got caught up with a person like Ben? 

Truthfully, after that, he knew he wasn’t going to find love, or at least the kind he had with Paul, again. He figured that nobody would ever love him, flaws and all, like Paul did. 

_How could they?_

Ben felt lucky to have even experienced that kind of love at all. 

That’s why, even after Paul died, he did his best to keep that love alive. It was good for him; made him the best version of himself that he could possibly be. The rest of the world witnessed the hard exterior, and his reputation continued to flourish for all of the wrong reasons. 

But, behind closed doors, Ben shared as much of his life with Paul as he possibly could. It was an attempt to give him drive and purpose, to feel that kind of love even after it had left. 

Ben wrote to him. 

He wrote to him about anything and nothing. About the major issues and the more trivial ones. The successes and the failures, the joyous moments and the difficult moments.

Ben wrote to Paul about _all of it._

Understandably, the letters went nowhere. They were simply written and stored away; only Ben knew of them, and they kept him sane. 

He promised himself that he would continue to write to Paul until he finally felt that **same love** again. Whether it would take months, years, whether it would even happen at all, Ben didn’t know. 

But he would certainly recognise the feeling if it ever occurred. 

Taking a long gulp of his beer, Ben thinks about his best friend. He thinks about who Callum is, everything that he stands for and everything that he does, knowing he deserves the whole world and more. 

He thinks about the fact that he won’t ever be good enough for someone like Callum, and how Callum is far too good for someone like him. 

But he also thinks about the promise he made to himself, that he would _continue to write to Paul until he finally felt that **same love** again._

And then, he puts pen to paper, knowing this will be the last letter he’ll write.

...

_ **Present Day.** _

The walk back to Ben’s flat speaks volumes, even though the majority of it is spent in silence. Ben tries to speak to Jamie, making casual chit-chat and getting one word answers at a push. 

Sometimes, he just outright ignores him. 

Lexi, of course, doesn’t say a word. She holds onto Ben’s hand, well-behaved and walking beside him, making no attempt to speak to her dad’s other half. 

That bit isn’t strange. It’s just typical Lexi. 

But Jamie’s silence? Jamie’s silence is unusual, and the complete contrary to his chatty demeanour during breakfast. It’s unnerving, confusing, and it’s stressing Ben out a little bit. 

Something is definitely wrong, he just isn’t sure what. And things don’t improve when they get back to the flat either, with Lexi heading straight to her room to play and leaving her dad and Jamie alone.

“God, I think I need more paracetamol,” Ben groans, pressing his palm against his head. “I ain’t well.” 

True to his latest form, Jamie says nothing at all, rather simply looking at the other man. Or _through_ him, it feels. 

“Are ya gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Ben adds. “Or are we gonna play mind games all day?” He leans against the kitchen counter, knocking two tablets back with a glass of water. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence surrounding them, and Jamie matches Ben’s gaze with interrogating eyes. “Do you trust me, Ben?” he says.

Ben frowns, taken aback by the question. “Where’s that come from?” 

“I just need to know,” Jamie replies. He’s trying to look busy, washing his hands as if they even _need_ washing, putting on the kettle even though _no one_ wants a hot drink. “Do you trust me or not?” 

“Yes,” Ben says, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Yes, of course I do.” 

Jamie closes some of the gap between them, standing before Ben with his hands shoved in his pockets. He doesn’t look reassured or convinced, he _certainly_ doesn’t look like he’s about to let this drop anytime soon. “Okay...okay, good,” he starts. “And can I, uh, can I trust you?”

Ben doesn’t want to say yes, he really doesn’t. He kissed his own best friend last night, and if he’s completely honest, he’s barely thought of anything else since. Still, what else was he supposed to say? 

“Of course you can,” he lies, a small smile trying to break through. “You know you can.” 

Taking his hands out of his pockets, Jamie places them on either side of Ben’s face. The action _feels_ physically gentle, of course, but there’s a flicker of something in Jamie’s eyes that seems misplaced with such a tentative action. 

“That’s all I need to know.” 

And then he heads for the door. 

“Wh-Jamie, what’re you doin’?” Ben asks, struggling to process everything given his throbbing headache. 

“I just gotta pop out,” Jamie says, giving his other-half a smile. “I ain’t gonna be long.” 

“You’ve only just got back.” 

He lets go of the door, leaning over to give Ben a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll be quick, I promise.” 

“M’kay, whatever,” Ben replies, watching as his boyfriend leaves. With the hangover from hell and nothing but _Callum_ on the brain, he has very little in him to argue otherwise. 

…

**_Great. See you tomorrow :)_**

Callum sends the message before sticking his phone on charge, willing himself not to think too much about the reasoning behind his agreeing to see Adam tomorrow night. He wanted it to be entirely driven by intrigue and good feeling, believe him, but at this moment in time, it feels a lot more like _any excuse_ to get over Ben. 

_A drunken mistake._

That’s all he is. That’s all it was. And Callum could speculate over Ben’s true feelings forever and a day, but it wasn’t going to change anything. Especially knowing that Ben is probably sitting there now, with Jamie, not a bad word spoken between them. 

Sharing breakfast this morning, sharing kisses into the afternoon, sharing a bed tonight. 

It’s about time he gave himself the chance to share something with someone. Even if it is a bloody _non-alcoholic_ beverage with Adam. Just anything to take his mind off of Ben. 

Flicking the TV on, Callum vows to make the most of Stuart and Rainie’s usual Sunday absence, finally having the remote to himself. He has little to no intention of engaging in further human interaction today, and with the mood he’s in, it’s probably for the best.

Well, all until the buzzer goes off, that is. 

Callum frowns as he gets up, having been hopeful for a much later return on his brother’s part and dragging his feet to the door. 

“It’s open,” he says into the intercom, rolling his eyes and throwing himself back down onto the sofa. _Rainie’s probably caused a scene again,_ he thinks, footsteps getting increasingly closer. “I wasn’t expectin’ you two back so—oh.” There’s a pause. “Jamie.” 

The blonde saunters into Callum’s flat, eyeing up the place. “I ain’t brought Ben with me,” he says. “Don’t be too disappointed.” 

Callum sits up straight with uncertainty, looking at the other man. “What are you goin’ on about?” 

“Please don’t insult my intelligence, ‘alfway. I ain’t got the time or the patience,” Jamie tells him, his eyes still wandering between furniture and walls. “You spoken to Ben this weekend?” 

Callum sighs, getting up from the couch. “No.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Ain’t even seen him,” Callum says bluntly. He gestures towards the door. “Is that it, or?” 

Jamie laughs, catching the other man off guard. “That’s what Ben reckons, an’all.” He walks towards Callum. “You two got a little pact goin’ or summing?” 

“Listen, whatever issues you an’ Ben are ‘avin, that’s between you an’ him,” Callum reasons, trying to broaden the gap between them. “So go back and talk to him about it, alright? You’re wastin’ your time bein’ here.” 

Eyes narrowing a little, Jamie closes in on Callum, putting an arm in front of him to prevent the other man walking away further. “You wanna know what wastes my time, Callum? Liars,” he spits. 

The older man swallows thickly, unsure of what to think. _Does Jamie know?_

“Y’see, I think it’s obvious, your _obsession_ with my boyfriend. I told ya, you can’t keep away. Always ha-”

“Hangin’ around, yeah. I get it.” Callum pushes Jamie’s arm down with slight force, moving past him to separate their current close proximity. “He’s my best mate, Jamie,” he tries, almost testing the waters with how much the other man knows. 

Jamie scoffs. “Answer me this, then. Y’know, since you’re his _best mate,”_ he starts, mimicking air quotations. “How come _my_ boyfriend feels the need to lie to me about whether he’s seen you or not?” 

Shrugging, Callum rubs at his eyes. He’s getting very tired of this _very_ quickly. “I think that’s summing you need to be askin’ Ben, don’t you?” 

“Thanks for the tip,” Jamie remarks, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Only, I get the impression that he ain’t up to a chat today. Too much _booze_ the night before.” He moves within Callum’s personal space again. “That’s why you had to carry him home, innit?” 

Callum turns his head to the side, unwilling to make such close eye contact. “I di-I didn’t _carry_ him home.” 

“So what then? Hmm? Just a leisurely walk home after a leisurely few drinks? That it?” Jamie’s tone is mocking, now. “Before you got together for a nice, _leisurely_ breakfast this morning?”

“I dunno what you want me to say,” Callum murmurs, eyes still fixed on the wall to his left. 

Jamie puts a firm hand beneath Callum’s chin, turning his head to face him with force. “I want to know why Ben feels the need to lie about summing as supposedly innocent as that.” 

“Maybe ‘cause you make him feel like he has to,” Callum responds, his expression repulsed as he pushes Jamie’s hand away. “You ever thought about it like that?” He shoves past Ben’s boyfriend, having had just about enough. 

“You what?” 

“You heard,” Callum snaps, surprising himself a little. “I think you should go.” 

Jamie’s eyes are wide, a mixture of fury and disbelief. His voice is barely a whisper. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere until you tell me what you’re gettin’ at.”

“You really need me to spell it out?” Callum shakes his head, his small laugh thick with irony as he feels himself getting angrier. “I mean, look at ya. Comin’ round here, pushin’ people about, thinkin’ it makes you better than everyone-”

“I don’t _think_ I’m better than you, Callum. You’re Ben’s mate,” Jamie interrupts, his patience unravelling as he steps towards Callum. “I’m his _boyfriend.”_ He starts to laugh. “Ain’t much of a competition, really, is it?” 

The corners of Callum’s mouth fall into a frown as he shakes his head. He shrugs. “So why are you makin’ it one?” 

“Because you don’t treat him like he’s just a mate.”

“And _**you**_ don’t treat him like a boyfriend.” 

As the words leave Callum’s mouth, he watches something in Jamie’s expression change, the other man pointing a finger into Callum’s chest. 

“And how would you know anythin’ about that, ey? Ain’t like you’ve ‘ad much experience, is it? Too scared to come out the closet for that bloke in the army…”

Callum squares up to him without even thinking, grabbing a fistful of Jamie’s jumper. “Don’t you _dare-”_

“Shame,” Jamie smirks. “Bit late now, innit?” 

And that’s when Callum snaps. No sooner has he let go of the fabric of Jamie’s shirt, he’s throwing a punch, the other man staggering backover onto the couch. He looks down at his shaking hand, then over to Jamie, who brings a slow hand up to his bloody lip. 

“Nice,” he mutters, laughing sadistically. “And what do I tell Ben when he asks about this, ey? Ain't lookin' good for your _'best mate'_ image, is it?"

“Get out,” Callum retorts, speaking with a clenched jaw. 

God, he desperately wants to tell Jamie about the kiss, _desperately_ wants to wind him up as much as he had wound Callum up, but he just wouldn't do that to Ben. 

He tries to take deep breaths, feeling a little bit like he’s suffocating. Callum’s not a physically violent person, he never has been, and yet he’s just burst somebody’s lip. 

His best friend's _boyfriend’s_ lip. 

Jamie stumbles up onto his feet, wiping a small drop of blood off his chin and dabbing it onto Callum’s cheek with his thumb. “Nice chat,” he says, as Callum drags his palm across his face, quickly rubbing away the remnants of any mark Jamie has made.

His knuckles are a little raw. Likely to bruise. 

And then, as Jamie leaves, Callums recognises the sound of the closing door, and the blinking back of the tears that follow. 

Like deja vu of the night before.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum has his date with Adam, whilst both Ben and Callum struggle with the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The support that people give me for this story is, as always, nothing short of amazing. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading, leaving kudos, writing comments or even just clicking the name of the title to have a look! It means so much to me. 
> 
> **Warning:** There are some references to violence in this chapter. 
> 
> Without further ado, let's get to it!! Hope you all enjoy xx
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

“You picked your outfit yet?” Jay asks, wiggling his eyebrows and prodding Callum with the wad of paper in his hand. 

“We’re goin’ to the Vic for a couple of drinks, Jay, it ain’t a five course meal at a michelin star restaurant,” Callum jibes back, rolling his eyes. If he’s being completely honest, he’d rather just not talk about it at all. 

He’s seeing Adam tonight, and Jay is taking far too much of an interest for Callum’s liking. Having seen the gents name pop up on Callum’s phone, his friend had pushed and pushed for further information, and eventually, giving in, Callum had confessed to the little date ahead.

He supposes it could be worse. Jay could be asking questions about Ben, whom Callum hadn’t seen or _heard from_ since his run-in yesterday with Jamie.

Or, to top that, Jay could be asking questions about the ever-so-slight bruising dusted across his right knuckles. 

And that’s something Callum did not want to get into today. Or _any_ day, for that matter. 

“What time ya meetin’ him?” Jay probes. 

“Dunno,” Callum shrugs. “Seven-ish, I think.” 

“Are ya nervous?” 

“Should I be?” 

Jay pulls a face. “Errr, you’re meetin’ a fit bloke in a pub where loadsa’ people know ya, _and_ you’re gonna be sober as well as him, this time.”

“I was practically sober last time,” Callum mumbles, busying himself in the paperwork on the desk as a distraction from Jay’s prying eyes. “I am a bit worried about Mick an’ Linda, though. No doubt they’ll be watching the whole thing from behind the bar.” 

“Big night tonight Callum, ey?” a female voice remarks from the doorway. 

_Lola._

Callum’s expression is perplexed. “What’re you on about?” 

She grins excitedly, walking over to Callum with unapologetic enthusiasm. “Your date with Adam!” 

“Wh-”

“Jay texted me,” Lola says matter of factly, cutting off Callum’s query before it begins. 

He glares at Jay, throwing his arms out indignantly. “You’re unbelievable.” Callum refocuses his attention on Lola, his expression dropping. “Please tell me you ain’t come in ‘ere just to talk about tonight.” 

Lola scoffs at him. “As if,” she snaps, funningly. “I came to see if either of you ‘ad heard from Ben.”

Callum’s heart skips at the mention of his name, though at this point it feels a lot more like nerves than anything else. He’s struggled to repress the thought of what Ben’s reaction to Jamie’s lip will have been since....well, since Callum hit him yesterday. 

“I ain’t heard from him since Saturday night babe, no,” Jay says, beating Callum to a response. “Why?”

“He was supposed to be pickin’ Lex up from school today, but he text this mornin’ to say that he couldn’t.”

Jay blinks at her, his face unexpressive. “And?” 

“Well, it just…” she starts, looking over at Callum for back up. “It just ain’t very _Ben_ is it? Not when it comes to our Lex, anyways.”

Callum nods, feeling a little more concerned than he lets on. “Did he say why?” 

“He just said he was sorry an’ that he couldn’t get her from school anymore. I tried callin’ him to find out why but…” 

“No answer?” Callum asks, a slight dip in the pit of his stomach. 

Lola sighs. “Exactly.” 

“Why don’t ya just go round and see if he’s in,” Jay suggests, evidently not seeing the need to fuss like the other two. 

His girlfriend hums in agreement. “I could do. It ain’t a big deal really, just thought it was a bit, I dunno..._odd.”_

Callum really wants to volunteer himself to go round, particularly given that, as Lola had pointed out, it simply isn’t like Ben to bail where his daughter is concerned. Still, the last thing either of them need is Callum making a surprise appearance when Jamie is there, especially if he’s filled Ben in on their _scuffle._

“He’s probably just made last minute plans with his fella or summing,” Jay muses, eliciting a subtle huff from Callum.

“Yeah. I'm bein' daft, ain't I?” Lola gives her boyfriend a small smile. “Just...let me know if you see him, alright?” she quips, but it’s obvious that she isn’t entirely convinced by Jay’s dismissal. 

Then again, if Callum’s being honest, neither is he. 

…

The rest of the day had passed pretty uneventfully, with Ben making no appearance for Jay or Callum to report back to Lola. The pair didn’t hear anything from her either, and Callum wasn’t sure whether to take that as a sign that she’d managed to get ahold of him, or a sign that she ended up just collecting Lexi herself. 

Either way, Callum didn’t have all that much emotional capacity to think about it. He had been too busy creating flashcards in his head, each covered in potential topics of conversation for his bloody _date_ with Adam. 

All day, he’d desperately wanted to look forward to it, to be excited about it. To feel about it the way that he felt every single time he was around his best friend, but instead, he simply cannot be bothered. Like, _at all._

Still, Callum hadn’t let himself cancel, not after he’d been told he was nothing more than a _drunken mistake_ by Ben. Not after he’d been told he was constantly _hanging around_ by Ben’s boyfriend. 

Certainly not after he’d let himself stoop as low as punching _said boyfriend_ in the face. 

And so, he’d selected an outfit from his wardrobe and got himself ready, similarly to how he had done at the weekend. Only this time, when he headed out, the expectations were low and the enthusiasm forced. 

“Lookin’ very smart, darlin’,” Linda beams as Callum walks into the Vic. “Hot date, is it?”

He paints a smile on his face to offer in return. “Give over,” he says, blushing a little. “Just a couple drinks with a mate.” 

Linda gives him a look. “That mate ain’t Ben Mitchell, by any chance, is it?” 

“No, it isn’t, _actually,”_ Callum responds, his expression insulted. “It’s a guy I met the other night.” He looks around, curiously. “Don’t look like he’s here yet, though.” 

“Oh,” Linda says. “So you...you ain’t seen Ben, today?” Her tone is flat, and it takes Callum by surprise. She doesn’t seem excitable or enthused at the prospect of Callum’s attempt to try something, or rather _someone,_ new. She just looks, well, _perturbed,_ Callum thinks. 

“N-no...I haven’t,” he says, frowning. “Are you alright?” 

Linda blinks, as though she’d been shocked out of her train of thought. “Wh-oh yeah, sorry darlin’, no no I’m fine. Over the moon for ya!” 

“Thanks,” Callum offers a small smile, but he can sense something is off. “I, uh, I guess I better get the drinks in, ey? Good first—well, _second_ impression and all that.” 

She places a tentative hand over his, and Callum can’t help but feel the sympathetic element of it. He’s concerned for a second that she’ll notice the light bruising on his knuckles, but then again, she seems far too distracted to tell. 

Either that or she’s simply chosen to ignore it. 

Regardless, he’s grateful for the lack of attention it gets. 

Linda gives his hand a light squeeze. “What can I get you both, darlin’?” 

… 

Mick and Linda watch Callum fondly from a distance, the two of them like a pair of proud parents. For the last couple of hours, they’ve witnessed him chatting, laughing, even flirting a little with the help of a few beers. 

It was lovely to see, particularly given that he spends so much time caught up over Ben. 

“Seems alright, that fella,” Mick chimes to his wife. _“Well,_ Callum seems to like him, anyway.” 

“Mmm,” Linda hums, positively. “I just hope this is the start of him movin’ on.” 

Mick gives her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Well we’ll soon find out, won’t we?” 

She side-eyes her husband, only half paying attention to him as she greets a newly arriving Jay with a smile. “Ey?”

“You know,” Mick says. “See how he reacts when he sees the state of Ben’s f—“ 

“Alright Jay,” she interrupts, cheerily. “What can I get ya?”

Jay frowns, glancing between them. “State of Ben’s what?” he asks, and it dawns on Linda that _he_ obviously doesn’t know, either. 

She shoves Mick in the arm furiously, gritting her teeth and widening her eyes. There’s a lingering silence amongst the three, and the older man scratches awkwardly at the top of his head as Jay pushes again for answers. 

“C’mon, what’s happened?” he says, laughing a little nervously, and his gaze follows Linda’s as she glances over at Callum. 

“I, uh, I don’t want you to panic, alright?” Linda keeps her volume low, conscious of Callum overhearing in such close proximity. “It’s not...well, I dunno, it probably...it probably ain’t that bad…” 

“It was bad, Lind,” Mick throws in. She glares at him, astounded by his lack of social awareness. 

Jay sighs, impatiently. “Someone just spit it out, please.” He can feel himself getting agitated and Linda obviously notices, her demeanour nothing short of cautious. “Well?” Jay adds. 

“Okay look, i-it could just be typical Ben, makin’ enemies an’ all that, but…” 

Her husband leans forward, making direct eye contact with Jay and cutting to the chase. “He came in ‘ere earlier an’ his face was nothing but cuts and bruises,” Mick butts in. 

“Oh,” Jay says, still relatively unphased. “I mean, he has made a _few_ enemies through the car lot. Could be that,” he shrugs. 

Mick nods, but the expression on his face is a total opposition. “I dunno, son,” he mumbles, biting a fingernail. “I tried to make light of it, y’know, ask him who’d ‘ad a go this time, but he, uh...well, he just said nothing. Turned round and left.”

“He just didn’t seem his usual arrogant self, that’s all ” Linda adds, her voice still settled just above whisper. “We was just a bit concerned. I, uh, I ain’t told Cal cause I wanted him to enjoy his night, and I know how much he cares for him.”

Realisation washes over Jay’s features as he listens. “That’s why he ain’t picked Lexi up,” he mutters to himself. “Okay, well I’ll, uh, I’ll pop over and see him, now," Jay offers, smirking as he gestures his head towards Callum. "I only came in to spy on 'alfway and his date, anyway."

Linda grins. "We can do that for you, sweetheart, no problem."

Sliding off the stool that he’s perched on, he thanks Mick and Linda for letting him know, just as Callum approaches the bar. 

“Alright, Jay!” 

The shorter man brushes past him, patting Callum’s shoulder briskly. “I ‘av to dash, bruv, but I’ll, uh, I’ll catch you in a bit, yeah?” 

“You’ve only just got here,” he calls after him, but Jay has already left. 

And, knowing how close to the surface Callum’s feelings for Ben are, Linda makes sure he remains oblivious as to why.

...

Over at Ben's flat, Jay can feel his skin turning raw at the touch of the cold. He's been standing outside for at _least_ five minutes, and his friend is showing no signs of answering.

“Ben,” Jay shouts, rapping his knuckles against the door, furiously. “Ben, it’s me. It’s _Jay.”_

He knocks again. 

“Ben, if you don’t answer this door in the next five…” He pauses, hearing muffled movements behind the frame. 

The scuffling around for the key, the turning of the metal in the door. 

And then it opens slowly, the dimmed nature of the streetlights leaving Ben’s face merely a shadow. Still, it’s bright enough for Jay to make out the truth in Mick’s words from earlier. 

“I, uh...I thought you was Jamie,” Ben mumbles.

Jay misjudges the atmosphere and laughs, light-heartedly. “And that’s why you took so long to answer?” He shakes his head. “Who said romance was dead, ey?” 

Ben says nothing. 

“Who’ve you been upsettin’ this time, then? Probably Jamie if you’re leavin’ him out in the cold everytime he comes round to—” 

Jay stops abruptly, the discomfort in Ben’s demeanour making it all too obvious _all too soon._ He swallows thickly, and it doesn’t feel right to be asking the question. “He didn’t do this to you, did he?”

He awaits a scoff from the other man. A laugh, a sarcastic comment, _hell,_ he’d even take a slammed door in the face. Instead, Ben just casts his eyes to the floor ashamedly, an emptiness to his tone. “Are ya comin’ in or what?” 

And so, Jay does. 

No further words exchanged between them, he walks cautiously past Ben and into the flat, Ben locking the door behind them. There’s no sound to accompany the pair, no trash TV playing away in the background, no music settling amongst the space. It’s dark, both literally and spiritually, with all of the lights switched off and a flickering candle on the coffee table being the only source of illumination in the room. 

Eventually, Ben speaks. 

“Thought the smell would relax me,” he says quietly, nodding towards the flame as he sits down. “Help me clear my head a bit.”

Jay nods, shoving his hands in his pockets to stop himself fidgeting; it’s something he often does when he struggles with what to say. “Lo’ loves a candle,” he comments, knowing how pathetic the attempt is. “Never understood it, myself.” 

Ben’s gaze remains fixated on the floor. “She mad at me?” 

“Who?” 

“Lola. You know, for...” His voice trails off as he touches his swollen eye with an unsteady hand. “I, uh...I didn’t want Lex to see me...see me like this.” 

Jay struggles to maintain his composure, hearing the small break in Ben’s voice. He asks the question, albeit already _knowing_ the answer. “What happened, Ben?” 

The other man laughs quietly. It’s hollow, laced with irony, and he grimaces in pain at the movement of his features. “Don’t—don’t do that, Jay,” he says. 

“Do what?” 

Ben finally makes eye contact, his irises depicting a mere shadow of the man he was before. “Don’t make me say it out loud.” 

“Ben, if he’s been hurtin’ you, then—”

“He ain’t been hurtin’ me,” Ben interrupts, struggling not to raise his voice. “He ain’t...it ain’t happened before,” he adds, softer this time. 

Jay’s lips form a thin line as he clenches his jaw, nausea settling in his stomach. “So it was him,” he says, and then he starts pacing. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

“Jay, just leave it, will ya?” 

“You’re ‘avin a laugh, right?” Jay says, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. “I’m calling the police.” 

Ben sighs, exhausted. “They ain’t gonna do anything.” 

“Of course they will, mate, look at ya!” 

“No, Jay, they won’t,” he shouts, before trying to maintain composure amidst his friend’s anger as he repeats himself again. “They won’t.” 

Jay shakes his head in disbelief. “You don’t know that, Ben.” 

Ben looks up with a sad smile, almost pitying Jay’s naivety. He leans back, resting his head against the sofa and letting his eyelids fall shut for a small moment. “Yes, I do.” 

Exhaling, Jay perches himself on the arm of the sofa, allowing Ben the second of peace that he obviously desperately needs. He observes the darkened shade of purple surrounding his friend’s right eye, fading out just above the shallow cut that sits on the bridge of his nose. Blood has dried harshly beneath it, and there’s another incise amongst the swelling of his bottom lip too.

Still, Jay knows that none of it, big or small, will compare to the scar that this will have inflicted on Ben’s self-worth. 

_Or, what’s left of it, anyway._

“Why?” Jay asks eventually, his approach all but confident. “Why’d he do it?” 

Ben shrugs, his eyes still closed. “I was askin’ for it,” he whispers.

“Is that what he said?” 

“No,” Ben’s eyelids lift tiredly, finally looking at his friend. “It’s just how it was.” 

“Ben, how could you _possibly_ justify what—”

“Because it’s true, Jay. Alright?” Ben snaps. He cuts off their eye contact again, rather staring down at his intertwined hands. “And y’know what the worst bit is?” he adds, just before Jay gets the chance to discredit his statement. His voice is jagged, on the very edge of breaking as his breathing comes in restless waves. “It’s the first time in our _entire_ relationship that I’ve actually been honest. The _one_ time that I try to stand up for what’s right for me, true to who _I_ am.” 

There’s a momentary silence. 

And then, “Just like I did that night wi’ Paul.” Ben inhales sharply, his eyeline fixed at low level. “Y’know that's the problem with the truth, Jay," he says. "It...it just gets people hurt.” 

… 

When Callum leaves the Vic that night, he’s feeling relatively positive. Sure, some of that could be down to the several units of alcohol he’s consumed, but the fact that even the smallest fraction of it has to do with a bloke that _isn’t_ Ben? 

Well, that’s a success in Callum’s eyes. 

What’s more, Adam had been just as lovely as he remembered. He was funny, sincere, and extremely complimentary, making Callum feel like _any_ guy would be lucky to have him. 

It was nice. 

There’d been no kiss, a simple peck on the cheek standing suffice for the pair of them. Well, certainly for Callum, anyway. He wasn’t ready for that, not yet. Because it was difficult enough to repress the never-ending comparisons in his head all night, anyway, without having to _physically_ feel the difference, too. 

And so, they’d said their goodbyes, and Callum had left feeling accomplished. 

Yesterday, he’d stood up to Jamie. 

Then, today? He’d gone on a proper date with someone that wasn’t the guy he’d spent years pining over. _And_ he’d enjoyed it. 

That’s why, stopping momentarily as he passes Ben’s flat, Callum faces such internal conflict. Of course, it’s half past 11, and the chances of Ben being a) alone, b) awake, and c) up to having visitors, are each very slim. 

Still, that doesn’t stop him going over Lola’s difficulty to get ahold of Ben this morning. 

It doesn’t stop him going over Linda’s expression of relief when Callum told her that he hadn’t seen Ben. 

And it doesn’t stop him wondering why Jay left the Vic as quickly as he arrived after speaking to Linda himself, and whether _that_ was something to do with Ben. 

But, Callum knows himself well enough to recognise when he’s perhaps looking for excuses to see his best friend. Because, even though he’d stood up to Jamie, and even though he’d been on this date with Adam, he was still the same Callum. 

The same Callum that kissed Ben, and broke down behind that closed door on Saturday night. The same Callum that was second best to someone like Jamie.

And the same Callum that, _truthfully,_ missed Ben after 48 hours of his absence. 

Still, it didn’t matter what he felt, truthful as it may be. 

Because _Ben’s_ truth is that he has a boyfriend, Jamie, who could well be in there right now. 

Ben's truth is that Callum had been nothing more than a drunken fumble after one too many drinks. 

And that's exactly why Callum knows he needs to avoid Ben's flat and go home. 

Because that's the problem with the truth. **It gets people hurt.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay is reluctant to talk about Ben, and Callum takes care of Lexi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! And Happy December🎄❄️
> 
> Thank you, as always, from the bottom of my heart for all of the support, encouragement and excitement surrounding this fic!!! I feel totally humbled and overwhelmed by it♥️ 
> 
> Here is Chapter 10, I pray that it’s okay for you all. 
> 
> I promise things will get better...soon...maybe. 
> 
> So much love to you all xo 
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

** _Three Days Ago._ **

Ben drags the palm of his hand over his face, pulling at the end of his nose with his fingertips. “He wouldn’t just hit you for no reason, Jamie, I _know_ Callum. He ain’t wired like that.” 

“Oh, of course he ain’t,” Jamie spits back, pacing across the living room. “He’s like the good Samaritan, is Callum. Never steps outta line, does he?” 

“What is wrong wi’ you?” Ben asks, grateful for Jamie’s return having occurred _after_ Billy had collected Lexi. He can tell this is only going to escalate, after all. “Why’d you always get your back up about him, ey? What is it about Callum that winds you up so much?” 

“The guy’s like a leech, Ben!” 

“No, Jamie, he’s my best mate!” He’s shouting now, not even the dull ache in his head tempting him to hold back, but Jamie doesn’t raise his voice in return. 

Rather keeping a chillingly calm demeanour, he walks closer to Ben, eliminating some of the safe space between them. “Well then,” he says. “I’ll ask you the same question that I asked your _’best mate’_, shall I?” 

_And a little closer._

“Why do you feel the need to lie to me about the time that you spend with him? Hm? Why am I findin’ out from your brother of all people that Callum **was** in the caff this morning? Ey? That Callum **was** out last night?” 

_Closer, still._

Ben’s heart is pounding out of his chest, and Jamie is in such intensely close proximity that Ben imagines he probably feels it, too. Right now, it’s the only bit of communication he’s giving back. He isn’t rising. He isn’t responding. He’s barely _breathing_ at this point. 

He just wants out. 

“Do you get off on it, hm?” Jamie continues, the ladent smell of alcohol being a sure giveaway that he’d gone straight from Callum’s flat to a bar somewhere. “Sneakin’ around with him? Makin’ an idiot out of me?” 

Ben swallows, clenching his jaw as though that would offer him some kind of protection. “No.” 

“Then why lie?” 

“Because I knew how you’d react,” he confesses, frustrated. “I knew how you’d react and I couldn’t…” There’s a pause. “...I couldn’t be _bothered_ to deal with it. There. That a good enough answer for ya?” 

Jamie raises his eyebrows, obviously taken aback by the brutal honesty. “You couldn’t be bothered?” he repeats back, dragging out the words as though he were processing them on the spot. 

Ben sighs, tiresomely. “I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry for lyin’, and I’m sorry you ‘ad to find out from Ian. Can we just..._please_, can we just drop it?” 

Jamie nods, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips. “Drop it,” he whispers. “That would work well for you, wouldn’t it? I drop this, yeah, an’ then you go back to ‘avin best of both worlds.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Sneakin’ around when I ain’t there, seeing Callum durin’ the day and then coming home to me?” he continues, ignoring Ben’s defences. Something in his expression changes, the anger becoming gradually transparent. “What if you didn’t ‘av that freedom, hm? What if I told you that you ain’t _gettin’_ the best of both worlds no more; that you have to choose, me or Callum?” He places a hand on Ben’s arm, and his grip feels tight. _Claustrophobic,_ even. “I don’t think that would be in your favour at all, would it?” 

Ben’s gaze falls to the fingers clenched around his forearm, and he can feel the strength of the hold Jamie has. 

Physically.

Emotionally. 

And then he thinks about the hold that Callum has over him, the completely different kind, wholesome and exciting. That’s what gives Ben the courage.

He takes a deep and unsteady breath, fearful to defend himself, but preparing to do so anyway. 

“And I don’t think my choice would be in _your_ favour.”

That’s when he takes the first hit. 

…

** _Present Day_ **

Callum practically slams the phone down, rolling his eyes and sighing loudly. “If that woman calls up _one more time_ about her flamin’ fridge bein’ dodgy I’m gonna lose my rag. I keep tellin’ her she’s got the wrong number, and she _still_ calls back.” He takes a closer look at the buttons on the landline. “Can you block certain callers on this thing or what?” 

Upon receiving no response, Callum lifts his head, frowning when he sees Jay completely zoned out. He reaches a hand out to stop his friend’s tapping of the pen off the desk, becoming increasingly irritated by the frequent noise. 

“Are you gonna tell me what’s botherin’ you, or are we gonna work in silence again today?” 

Jay blinks himself back into reality, frowning at Callum. “We ain’t workin’ in silence.”

“Only cause I keep talkin’ _at_ you,” the taller man says. “You ain’t exactly givin’ me much back, are ya?” 

“Just got stuff on my mind, that’s all,” Jay responds casually, brushing Callum off with a shrug of the shoulders. 

His friend doesn’t buy the dismissal, walking round to Jay’s side of the desk and perching himself on the end of it. “You, uh, you wanna talk about it?” 

Jay barely lets him finish the question. “Nope.”

“Y’know what they say, a problem shared is a—”

“Give it a rest, Cal, will ya?” 

Callum tuts irritably, lifting himself off of the desk almost as quickly as he’d sat on it. “Only tryna’ help,” he mutters under his breath, returning to his previous seat by the phone. “Oh, by the way, did Lola ever hear from Ben in the end or…?”

Jay noticeably tenses up at the question, and his hesitation to answer only further clarifies to Callum that something isn’t right. 

“Jay, what is going on?” He asks, pressingly. “A-and don’t start fobbin’ me off, sayin it’s _nothin’,_ alright? This is the second day in a row you’ve been actin’ weird, so whatever is botherin’ you, just...just say it.” 

The shorter man’s head runs wild with an abundance of excuses, none of which he can bring himself to say out loud. He thinks about Ben’s words that night, right before he had left the flat. 

_“You don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, alright? Not to Lola, or my mum, and certainly not to Callum. Please, Jay, don’t put any of this on Callum.”_

Ben had been through enough lately, the _least_ he could do was stay true to his word, right?

“I can’t,” he says eventually, both to Callum and to himself, really. 

“Why not?” Callum pulls a face, a little offended. “I’m meant to be your mate.” 

“You are,” Jay responds, starting to tap the pen off the desk again. “You know you are.” 

“Well, tell me then!” 

“Like I said,” Jay stares at the wall, almost as though he’s physically refusing to look Callum in the eye. “I can’t.” 

“Yes, you _can,”_ Callum reaffirms, shaking his head with his impatience on the rise. “Will you stop messin’ about wi’ that pen and just tell me wh-” he pauses as the sound of his friend’s ringtone fills the space around them. With Jay reaching into his suit jacket to grab his phone, Callum has no choice but to sit back and listen.

“I’m at work Lo, what’s up?” Jay says, having rolled his eyes when he saw his girlfriend’s name on the caller ID. “I thought she didn’t finish until...oh.” A mixture of realisation and understanding washes over his face, heightening Callum’s curiosity. “N-no Ben’s…” Jay side-eyes Callum to check how much attention the other man is paying. “Ben’s busy, he ain’t...he can’t, Lo. Can Billy not do it?” 

“What’s wrong?” Callum whispers, but he’s shut down almost instantly with the wave of a hand and an irritated expression from Jay.

“Ri-right, okay, _alright._ I’ll sort it babe, I’ll...yes, I’ll just bring her ‘ere. Okay...alright, love ya—love ya, bye.” 

Callum looks at him expectantly, his brow furrowed. “What was all that about?” he asks, watching as Jay stands up to look for his keys. “Wha-where are you going?” 

Jay sighs. “I need to go get Lex from school, she’s got a dodgy stomach or summing, apparently.” Callum nods as he listens. “Lo’s not in town an’ Billy’s at some stupid car show.” 

“And what about Ben?” the taller man frowns, but Jay selectively ignores the question with ease.

“I won’t be long, alright?” 

Callum gives up, shrugging the response off just as easily. “Alright.” 

…

Jay returning with Lexi meant one thing for certain - Callum no longer had to worry about spending the day in silence. Since being collected from school, the youngster had done nothing _but_ talk. 

She talked about the funeral parlour and how those ‘big boxes’ scared her. She talked about the mile long list of things she was asking Santa for this year, and another mile long list of things she wanted for her next birthday. She wanted to know where everybody else was - Lola, Billy, Grandad Phil, _hell,_ she even asked why it wasn’t Ian that collected her.

But, of course, she was just laying the ground in preparation to ask the real question. 

_Where was Ben?_

“Why didn’t Mum send Dad to get me?” she’d asked, swinging her little legs off of the edge of the desk that Callum had sat her on. “He didn’t get me on Monday, either. He always picks me up on a Monday.” 

At that point, Jay’s tense demeanour had made another appearance, and so he came to the executive decision that she would spend the remainder of the day watching TV upstairs. 

Of course, by Lexi’s definition, that meant interfering with Jay and Callum’s working day as frequently as one possibly could. 

“What now, Lex?” Callum asks, peeking his head around the door after being summoned…_again._

She’s laid out on the sofa in front of the TV, a blanket draped over her and some juice on the floor that she’s barely touched. 

“I’m hungry,” she announces, eliciting a baffled look on Callum’s face. 

“I thought you had a bad tummy?”

There’s a lingering silence as Lexi sulks her bottom lip out slightly. She looks at Callum with sad eyes. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

A small smile plays on Callum’s lips as the youngster tugs at his heartstrings. He walks further into the room, crouching down to a lower level and stroking her cheek gingerly. “Always.” 

“Promise you won’t tell my mum?” 

He links his little finger with hers, shaking them gently in unison. “I pinky promise,” he whispers. 

Lexi sighs like she’s preparing to get something huge off her chest, unaware that Callum is almost certain he already knows what’s coming. “I don’t really have a bad tummy, Callum.” 

And there it is. _Exactly_ what he was expecting. 

Callum exhales loudly, nodding with understanding. “Okay,” he reassures, scratching at his temple. “Do you, uh, d’ya wanna tell me why you said that you did?” 

Lexi shrugs, pitifully. “Thought maybe I’d have to go to dad’s house ‘cause mum was busy.” 

Callum’s heart very nearly bursts. He decides to sit in front of her, a little more crippled by this whole _crouching_ business than he would ever care to admit. “You missin’ him, ey?” 

“Yep,” she says, quietly, counting with her hands. “Haven’t seen him since...since 3 days ago. And we ended up with Jamie, _anyway,”_ Lexi adds, dramatically, scrunching her nose up in disgust. “I don’t like him.” 

Callum chuckles. “I, uh, I gathered.” 

But, despite his appreciation of her honesty, he does feel a little bad. Of course, Callum is never going to like Jamie, particularly after what happened the other day between them. But it was Ben’s life, Ben’s choice, and Ben’s happiness that they were talking about, here. And he should be encouraging a different outlook from Lexi on that, no matter how much he agreed with her disapproval.

“Thing is, Lex, your daddy really loves him, don’t he?” He swallows, thickly. “And he’s happy. That’s all that matters, innit?” Callum says, his words somewhat weighted with doubt. “That he’s happy?” 

The young girl blinks up at Callum, unassuming and innocent. “I wish my dad could be happy with you.” 

Callum falls silent, his stomach dipping and mouth slightly agape at the statement. He closes his eyes momentarily, willing away the sinking feeling of someone adhering to the narrative of a reality he could never have.

It just made it even harder to accept.

“Listen,” he says, diverting the subject. “Why don’t I get finished up here, an’ then take you to the caff for a nice bun? Deal wi’ that hunger of yours, ey?” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Does that sound good?” 

Lexi nods excitedly, but her face quickly falls serious. “Jay thinks I have a poorly tummy,” she whispers. 

Callum throws her a wink, smiling at her giggling demeanour. 

“You leave Jay to me, alright?”

…

Never one to make empty promises, Callum had whisked Lexi off to the caff for an iced bun and one of those milkshakes she liked, a treat that he remarked was **not** to be seen as a reason to skive off again in future. 

They’d had a lovely time together, talking about everything and nothing, or more so Callum simply listening to Lexi as she inundated him with information about her life at school. 

Apparently all the teachers loved her, all the girls were jealous of her, all the boys were after her...and she absolutely _thrived_ off of it by the sounds of things. 

She was so much like Ben it was uncanny, and it made Callum miss him. Because, just like Lexi, three days without Ben felt a hell of a lot longer. 

Still, when the youngster tries to pull Callum towards her dad’s flat on the way back to the parlour, he does his absolute best to refuse. He recalls Jay saying something on the phone to Lola about Ben being busy, and besides, if they head over to find Jamie is there, that’s a sure ticket to misery for both Ben _and_ Lexi. 

She manages to negotiate with him (something else that made her so much like her dad), agreeing that they didn’t have to knock on Ben’s door as long as Lexi had sweets to take back to the parlour. 

“If it ain’t your dad wrapped around your little finger, it’s me, innit?” Callum smirks, nudging his arm gently into her. 

“No.” Lexi looks up at him, mischievously. “Sometimes it’s Jay, too,” she adds matter-of-factly, eliciting a laugh from Callum.

“You’ve got an answer for everything, madam,” he chimes, ruffling her hair with his free hand. “Just like your d-”

_Just like your dad._

Callum’s breath catches in his throat, the motioning world around him coming to a complete stop. Honey is talking, he’s pretty sure of it, saying something along the lines of ‘having the right to refuse a sale’, but Callum is processing very little right now. 

He opens his mouth, desperate to speak, when his grip on Lexi’s hand loosens involuntarily. She bolts forward, ready to embrace the individual standing at the counter.

_Ben._

“Dad!” she squeals, throwing her arms around his waist and awaiting reciprocation. Ben puts his arms around Lexi too, of course, but the motion is rigid and aloof. 

He’s evidently been caught off guard, particularly with the arrival of his daughter, and Callum can see that in the eyes that meet his own. They’re lost and a little sunken; _intoxicated,_ and Callum can’t decide if it’s genuinely alcohol consumption, or just the discoloured bruising and swelling around his eyes. 

Making a second attempt to say something, the taller man’s lips part, dry and unwilling. He doesn’t manage much, words spoken so quietly that they barely register amongst the cold breeze coming in from the open doorway.

“What happened to you?” he asks, casting a glance to the bottle of vodka on the counter. “W-what’re you doin’?” 

Honey sighs, looking at Callum pitifully. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, Callum, but he really don’t need this,” she says, gesturing towards the alcohol.

“It ain’t in your job description to decide what I need,” Ben slurs, Lexi still clinging onto him as though her life depended on it. 

“Ben, don’t...” Callum pleads, reaching a hand out and placing it on his arm, but Ben jerks away instantly. 

“Dad, what happened to your face?” Lexi chirps up, her voice laced with both curiosity and concern as she pulls back a little from him. “Are you hurt?” 

“No baby, I ain’t...I ain’t hurt,” Ben starts, almost toppling over as he tries to step away from her. He grabs onto the counter for support, beginning to laugh with a jaded tone. “Your dad doesn’t...doesn’t _feel_ things, Lex. He’s the t-tough one, remember?” 

“Sorry Ben, but I ain’t givin’ this to you,” Honey says, moving the vodka to her side of the till. “I sold him a bottle this morning, Callum, I’m so sorry.”

“It really ain’t your fault,” Callum reassures briskly, more pressing matters at hand as he crouches down to Lexi’s height. “Lex, why don’t you go an’ pick some sweets out, okay? Honey’s gonna help you,” he forces a smile, giving her a soft tap on the nose to reinforce that everything is alright. 

When Honey scoots her off to look at the confectionary, Callum glares at Ben, awaiting explanation.

“She w...weren’t supposed t’ see me like this,” he says, tripping over his words. “An’ neither were you.” 

“I wonder why,” Callum scoffs in response, struggling to whisper as he looks away to gather his thoughts. “What the hell happened, Ben?” 

The shorter man shrugs nonchalantly, his body language the depiction of carelessness. “Pissed the wrong person off, I s’pose.”

“Right,” Callum retorts, his hands placed on his hips, indignantly. “Care to tell me who?”

Ben just stares back at him, his jaw clenched and his gaze empty, irises speckled with hopelessness. He says nothing, the tears that prick at the corner of his eyes being his only expression of raw emotion.

“S-so what, you got in a fight, now you’re embarrassed to show your face, so you hit the bottle, is that it?” 

Again, _nothing._

“Your daughter is over there, Ben, someone who _idolises_ you, and—” Callum pauses, spotting Lexi looking over in the corner of his eye, her attention caught by the increase of volume. He gives her a quick, reassuring smile, thankful for Honey as she offers to take Lexi to see the stock out the back. 

Callum breathes deeply. “Has your mum seen you like this? Hm? Lola? Jamie?” 

Ben’s jaw tenses further, his nostrils flared a little as a single tear runs down his cheek, unwanted. He doesn’t try to wipe it away, instead letting it fall with his dignity and pride alike. “Oh yeah, Jamie’s, uh…” he swallows, thickly. “Jamie’s seen me.”

Callum drags the palm of his hand over his face in despair. He’d spent all this time worrying about Ben’s reaction to him hitting Jamie, when all along Ben had been getting into _far_ bigger fights, himself. “And?” 

“And what?” Ben slurs. 

“Well what did he say?” 

The shorter man reaches clumsily over the counter, taking the bottle of vodka back into his possession. The demons in his head are just as intoxicated, everything too much of a blur for him to think rationally. 

In Ben’s mind, he’d lost everything. 

Sure, Jay had reached out a few times since Monday night, pressing him to call the police, constantly offering to come round for company. But Ben didn’t want company. 

Just like he didn’t want his daughter to hate him like she probably does right now. Just like he didn’t want Callum to stare at him this way, pitiful and patronising. 

He just wanted to forget. 

“Ben?” Callum pushes sharply, snapping Ben out of his train of thought. 

He sniffs. “You really wanna know what Jamie said?” 

Callum nods as Ben closes the gap between them, their faces almost as close as Saturday. _Almost._

But things were so different.

“He said nothing,” Ben whispers, the strength of the alcohol in his breath lingering heavily. “Wanna know why?” 

“Ben—” Callum starts, uncertain of what he even wants to say. He feels confused, upset, and honestly a little bit scared, because in their years of friendship, after all they’d been through, Callum hadn’t ever seen Ben like this before. 

And then, his friend’s bottom lip quivers slightly, another unwelcome tear escaping down his cheek. Still, Ben’s teeth remain gritted and his expression stern. 

“Cause he was the one who did it.”

Slamming a twenty pound note on the counter, Ben pushes unsteadily past the other man with the alcohol in tow. “Tell Honey to keep the change.” 

And this time, it’s Callum left to grab onto the counter for support.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a shocking discovery, Callum reaches breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my angels!!! 
> 
> Firstly, I want to repeat myself for the hundredth time and say that I love and appreciate every single person that dedicates even a _second_ of their time to this fic - it means so bloody much to me. 
> 
> **Warning:** this chapter does refer to abuse _very_ briefly - just wanted to make sure people were made aware. 
> 
> Apart from that, this is a jolly, cheery chapter to distract us all from the election!!! 
> 
> _(No, I'm kidding. There's really nothing jolly about this.)_
> 
> Enjoy!!!! All the love xxx
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

The walk back from the minute mart feels like a million miles to Callum. There are so many questions, most of which are circulating in his head, but some of which are coming from the youngster pacing along beside him. 

“Why was his face like that?” Lexi asks in confusion, gripping onto her sweets. 

Callum forces a smile, rubbing the top of her head gingerly. “Don’t you be worryin’ about that, sweetheart, alright?” 

She attempts to stop them in their tracks. “But—”

“C’mon, Lex,” Callum says, mitigating the risk of further questioning and tugging her along a little faster. “Or Jay’ll be givin’ us both an earful, won’t he?” 

“What’s an earful?” Lexi frowns, paying more attention to Callum than she is to her surroundings. 

Usually, it’s the little inquisitive comments like that from Lexi that elicit laughter and adoration from Callum, but right now he has no time to engage. Instead, he has to focus on getting her back to the parlour as quickly as possible, so that he can get back to _Ben_ as quickly as possible. 

When Callum and Lexi arrive, Jay doesn’t seem to have shifted in the time that they’ve been gone; sitting behind the desk with an all but focused expression. 

“Now I ain’t claiming to be a medical expert,” he says, looking up and raising an eyebrow. “But I don’t think sweets have a reputation of curing bad stomachs, madam, do you?” Jay switches his attention to Callum. “I thought you was takin’ her to the chemist?” 

“Yeah well, change of plan,” Callum responds, winking subtly at Lexi. “You’re feelin’ better now, aren’t you Lex?” He ignores Jay’s roll of the eyes, turning to face the youngster and resting a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you go upstairs and pop the tele on, ey? I’ll be up in a bit to make sure you ain’t eaten all of them at once.” 

Obligingly, Lexi nods with a little smile, heading up to the flat and leaving Callum behind, who turns to face Jay in the meantime. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the taller man scolds, deciding now was as good a time as ever to just cut to the chase. 

Jay frowns, although Callum can’t tell whether the confusion is actually genuine. “Tell you what?” he asks, baffled. 

“About Ben,” Callum scoffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m assuming that’s why you’ve been actin’ all strange, recently? The whole _‘just got stuff on my mind’_ saga an’ all that? It’s about Ben, innit?” 

Jay just stares back at him, no real giveaway in his expression. “How’d you know?” 

“Because I’ve just seen him, Jay,” Callum says, pacing now. “And so did Lexi, for that matter. His face is a right state, a-and he said summing about Jamie doin’ it?” 

Jay clenches his jaw, exhaling shakily. “He told you then,” he mutters. 

The lack of denial from his friend is the only confirmation that Callum needs, and he brings a hand up to this temple in distress. “No, no, no, ‘ang on, are you sayin’ you knew it was him?” 

Jay remains silent. 

“Wh—and you didn’t think to say anything?” Callum shoves a hand into the inside pocket of his suit jacket with urgency, trying to locate his phone. “What is wrong wi’ you?” 

“What’re you doing?” Jay asks, watching Callum tap on his mobile, furiously.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m callin’ the police!” 

“Nah, listen mate, you can’t,” Jay protests, but with Callum seemingly paying no attention, he lunges forward, snatching the phone out of his friend’s hand. Callum makes an irate noise, trying to grab it back as Jay swerves it out of his reach. “You ain’t callin’ the cops, Callum.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because he don’t want that,” Jay starts. “I already tried it myself, trust me. Ben, uh...he weren’t happy about it.” 

Callum’s mouth falls agape slightly, but he closes it to frown. “Well he can’t just get away with it, Jay,” he states, raising his voice slightly. “I ain’t ever seen Ben like that before, he was off his head, a-and-”

Jay’s eyes widen, and he cuts Callum off mid-sentence. “Wh-what d’ya mean off his head, Callum? Was he drunk?” 

Callum nods. “Wasted,” he mumbles back. 

Rising from his seat almost instantly, Jay walks out from behind the desk, standing before the other man. “Well what the hell are you doin’ here, then?” he shouts. 

“Errr, I had to bring Lexi back,” Callum retorts, flinging his arms out to the side. “I couldn’t exactly leave her with Honey, could I?” 

Jay sighs, trying to ground himself again. “Look, you and me shoutin’ the odds at each other...it ain’t helpin’ anything,” he mutters, with Callum nodding in agreement. “I’ll sort stuff out ‘ere, you need to go an’ talk to him.” 

There’s no hesitation on Callum’s part, of course. Even if Jay hadn’t suggested such, leaving Ben on his own wasn’t an option. Still, he doesn’t feel right knowing what he knows now and doing nothing about it. “And Jamie?” he asks.

Jay looks at him, calmly. “We’ll sort it. Just...just _go.”_

And, after promising Jay that he’d keep him informed, that's exactly what Callum does.

…

Slamming the flat of his hand against the door, Callum does a quick check of his surroundings, deciding it _is_ in fact quiet enough nearby for him to shout through the letterbox. He bends down, lifting up the little door and doing his best to peek through the gap. “Ben? Ben, are you in there?”

No response.

“Ben, I ain’t messin’ about, answer this—”

“Callum?” a voice says from behind, causing him to jump a little. “Are you, uh, are you alright?”

He turns his head, the tips of his fingers still slotted in the letterbox as he does so. “Bobby!” Callum says, wincing as the flap of the letterbox shuts on his hand. “I was just, um...I was lookin’ for Ben.” 

Bobby smiles, not having mastered the art of confidence yet as he edges forward. “I can see,” he says. “But I, uh, I ain’t sure you’re gonna find him here.” 

Callum’s brow furrows, his lips upturning slightly. “Why not?” 

“Because he’s at mine...well, _my dad’s._ Whichever way you wanna look at it,” Bobby laughs lightly, obviously trying to lift the mood a little. “I, um, I found him staggerin’ about the square with a bottle of vodka so I-I managed to drag him back to the house.”

Callum lets out a sigh of relief, thankful that Ben is safe. “Okay,” he breathes, reaching a hand out to give Bobby a grateful pat on the shoulder. “Right, okay...”

“You...you don’t seem surprised?” Bobby says, his tone laced with confusion. 

“Oh, I, uh, I seen him myself…” Callum reasons, his head gesturing towards the door. “Y’know, hence why I’m here now.” 

Bobby nods in understanding, an “ah” of realisation escaping his lips. 

Callum opens his mouth to speak again, the air between the two of them thick with concern for someone they both care about. “I, um...can I—can I come see him?”

“Well he’s crashed out on the sofa at the minute. Nan sent me to get him some spare clothes...says she’s gonna stick him in the shower when he wakes up,” Bobby offers, dangling the key and shuffling past Callum to get to the front door. “She reckons he’ll need it given that he’s thrown up.”

Bobby opens the front door, Callum following shortly behind him and into Ben’s flat. He wonders how much Bobby and Kathy know; how much Ben has told them about the injuries on his face, or whether he was in any fit state to tell them anything _at all._

He considers testing the waters, raising the question as to whether or not Bobby had knowledge or theory regarding the cuts and bruises that Ben had sustained, but Bobby saves him the trouble. 

“Did you see the state of his face?” The younger man asks, clearing empty beer bottles off of the kitchen counter and putting them in the recycling bin that his uncle kept under the sink. “He kept telling me that the other guy came off worse but, uh...Ben looked bad _enough.”_

Callum has to suppress a role of the eyes. It’s so typical of Ben, trying to maintain the tough guy act - first with Lexi, earlier, and now Bobby and his mum, too. 

“Ain’t exactly sure why he’s on a midweek bender, though,” Bobby adds, casting his gaze to the floor. “Then again, could be summing to do wi’ this.” 

Callum’s line of sight journeys slowly towards the ground, noticing the torn photograph that’s now in Bobby’s hand. It’s the picture of Jamie that was once on the refrigerator, now ripped jaggedly in two. The small red magnet is still in place on the fridge door, but the space beneath it is empty, like the vacancy Callum had awaited for so long. 

Still, he didn’t exactly feel joyous about it. 

Given the circumstances, _how could he?_

“Do you think I should bin it, or?” Bobby says, snapping Callum out of his ruminating thoughts. 

The older man tries to shrug casually, brushing it off as no big deal. “Well he ain’t gonna stick it back up like that, is he?” 

Bobby chuckles. “True,” he remarks, tossing the photograph into the bin. “I, uh, I’m gonna go get him some clothes, will you have a look for his phone? He didn’t ‘av it with him...so, um, if it ain’t in ‘ere then—”

“Then, he’s lost it?” Callum finishes off the sentence, allowing himself a moment to smile at Ben’s general lax attitude and clumsiness. 

“Exactly,” Bobby says. “I’ll, uh, I’ll have a look in his room...you check the living room.” 

And so, following instruction, Callum gets looking. 

He scouts about the living room, trying to think of the most _Ben_ place to leave a mobile phone. Realistically it could be anywhere, especially given the state he’d been in, and so Callum ensures he checks high and low. On the coffee table and _beneath_ the coffee table, on the sofa and _beneath_ the sofa, on the TV stand and, of course, _beneath_ the TV stand. 

And then he checks the small chest of drawers beside the sofa, opening each drawer individually. It’s a total reach, as if Ben would _ever_ tidy up to the extreme of putting his phone away like that, but Callum tries anyway. 

_And that’s when he finds it._

Not the phone. 

The piece of paper that had been shoved into the third drawer down, a little crumpled around the edges and looking relatively out of place, almost as though it had been thrown in there last minute. It appears to be worn, the jaded corners suggesting that it had been read and re-read, picked up and put down, each on several occasions, and it’s the writing at the top that catches Callum’s attention instantly.

_‘Dear Paul,_

_This will be the last letter that I ever write to you.’_

…

Callum checks the time on his phone, only half listening to everything Stuart is telling him about the nightmare of a first day he’s had in his new job. Ever since leaving Ben’s flat this afternoon, Callum’s head has been a mess, thinking about what he’d read, going over it and over it

**and over it.**

It was Kathy who found Ben’s phone in the end. She’d called Bobby up and told him not to worry about the mobile, having spotted it on the windowsill of the bathroom. 

“He must’ve put it on there before he chucked his guts up,” she’d muttered down the line to her grandson. “Flamin’ idiot.” 

And so, Bobby had gathered some new clothes for Ben, telling Callum that they could cease the mini search party and instead head back to Ian’s house. He’d insisted that Callum could come with him, suggesting that Ben would probably be grateful for the familiar face once he’d pulled himself round, but the older man had politely declined. 

_“I’ll, um, I’ll just call round later. You let me know when he’s feelin’ up to company, yeah?”_

Because, Callum needed time and space to think. To think about Jamie and the best way to deal with what he’d done. To think about Adam and the two text messages from him that Callum had ignored today. To think about Ben. 

Ben and that _damn_ letter. 

But he’d had enough thinking time. It was 8pm, for God’s sake - he’d even gone for a run, he’d showered, he’d _waited._

And now he just needs to talk to Ben. 

“So I told the boss, yeah, I says’ to him _‘listen, she’s takin’ the piss, mate,’_ but he weren’t havin’ any of it, y’know? He even...Callum, are you listenin’ to me?” Stuart flings the milk bottle top at his brother in a somewhat childish bid to get his attention. “Oi!” 

Callum flinches, the lid hitting the back of his head as he sits hunched on the sofa. “Wh—oh, sorry, I…” he pinches the bridge of his nose, resting his eyes for a brief second. “I just got a lot goin’ on in my head. Your, um, your new boss sounds like a right mug.” 

Stuart nods, although his expression is perplexed. “Mmm. He is. Then again, so am I for thinkin’ you’d be a better listener than Rainie,” he mumbles, tutting in disdain as he pours the milk into his mug. “Coffee?” 

Callum opens his mouth to respond, but the text alert on his phone sounds just before he gets the chance to do so. He grabs it quickly, a nauseating feeling making itself at home in his stomach. 

It’s from Bobby. 

_ **Ben’s pulled round a bit. Nan is making him stay the night, so feel free to call and see him if you want :)** _

“It’s gonna be the kettle lid I throw next if you keep ignoring me, bruv,” Stuart remarks, crossing his arms indignantly. “Coffee - yes or no?” 

Callum starts to shake his head before the words come out, standing up and heading towards the doorway. “I, uh...no. No, I don’t want a coffee. I’ll just—I need to go out for a bit.” 

“What, where?” 

“I’ll see you in a bit, alright?” 

This time, it’s Stuart that ignores Callum. 

…

When Callum arrived at the Beale household, it didn’t take long for Bobby and Kathy to realise that him and Ben needed some space. There were too many awkward silences, too big of an elephant in the room, and it became very obvious very _quickly_ that anything in need of being discussed wasn’t going to be discussed with four in the room. 

And so, with Bobby having vacated upstairs and Kathy “popping to the Albert” (although probably with no purpose other than to give him and Ben space, Callum thinks), the pair of them are finally left alone. 

It just seems that neither wants to speak first. 

“How are you feelin’?” Callum starts eventually, rising from the dining room chair that he’d perched himself on initially. 

Ben’s face doesn’t so much as twitch, his lips strung out in a thin line. “Like I’ve just been smacked about, gone on a massive bender and embarrassed myself in front of my daughter.” He grabs the remote off the arm of the sofa, switching on the TV to break up the atmosphere a little, but Callum walks over to the device and turns it straight back off. 

He stands in front of it, glaring at Ben with a frustrated expression. “Don’t give me stupid answers.” 

Ben shrugs, still barely flinching. “Don’t ask me stupid questions.” 

Sighing, Callum walks over and sits beside him, pushing his friend’s feet gently off the coffee table. “It ain’t stupid, Ben. You...you need to tell me what’s goin’ on, b-because if he’s been…” Callum stumbles, struggling to get the words out. “If _Jamie_ has been hurtin’ you, then-” 

“Oh, not you an’all,” Ben mutters, having deja vu from his conversation with Jay. “He ain’t been hurtin’ me, Callum, alright? It was just...he just lost his temper, that’s all.” 

Callum shakes his head, doing his best to maintain a levelled composure. “I think he did a bit more than lose his temper, Ben. It...it ain’t right.” 

“Yeah well, I said the wrong thing, didn’t I?” the younger man replies, slightly hunched over as he clenches his hands together tight. “Pushed the wrong buttons.” 

Callum falls silent, struggling to get his head around the fact that Ben is actively blaming himself. When he speaks, his voice barely surpasses a whisper, the reality of everything sinking in at once. “None of this is your fault.” 

“It is,” Ben mumbles, a small and sad smile etched upon his face. He looks at Callum, making proper eye contact for the first time since the other man had arrived. “It always is.”

Swallowing thickly, Callum ponders all of the new meaning that Ben’s words have now that he’s seen that letter. Now that he knows how Ben once felt. Or perhaps _still feels._

After all, given what happened between them on Saturday night, he couldn’t know for certain. 

Callum's eyes wander carefully over the cuts and bruises on Ben's face. “You didn’t deserve this, Ben," he says, the emotion in his voice apparent. “Nobody does.” 

A small smile plays on Ben’s lips. “It’s not like I ain’t used to it, Callum,” he tries, light-heartedly. “Y’know, people ‘avin a go. It’s, uh, it’s part of my _look,”_ he says, bringing a hand up to his own cheek and eliciting an exhausted sigh from the man beside him. 

“This ain’t a joke,” Callum says, pressingly. “He can’t just get away with it.”

“He got away with it that time he hit you, remember? For putting a kiss on the end of that text?” Ben smirks. 

“That’s different, Ben," Callum says, flatly. "That was just...just jealous _idiocy._ This..." he swallows, stumbling a little. "It—it’s abuse.” 

The younger man clenches his jaw as Callum says it, a significant change created in the atmosphere. “Look, if you’ve just come ‘ere to make me feel like some _tragic_ victim then you might as well go, alright?” Ben says with a jaded tone, resting back into the sofa. “I’m fine.” 

“You ain’t _fine_ at all, you’re shutting me out.”

Ben sighs. “I ain’t shutting anyone out, I’m askin’ you to drop it, alright? I can handle Jamie.”

“Well you could’ve had me fooled,” Callum mutters, failing to think before he opens his mouth.

It elicits a bitter gaze from Ben, his nostrils flaring a little at the perceived attack of his character. “And what’s that supposed to mean? Hm?” 

Callum grows frustrated with the difficulty of getting through to his friend, his voice slightly raised. “I think you’re forgettin’ that I saw you earlier, Ben, alright, I-I saw the state you were in.” He rises to his feet, the adrenaline a little too much to bear. “I mean I can _see_ the state you’re in now, shutting people out, goin’ into self-destruct mode, it...it ain’t on, Ben, not while he’s _swannin’_ about somewhere pretendin’ nothing’s happened!” 

“Well, what do you suggest?” Ben asks, matching Callum’s volume and throwing his arms out wildly to the side. “Runnin’ to the coppers with my word against his and a record like mine? They’d take one look at it an’ send me packin’, Callum, you know that just as well as I do.” 

Callum places a hand on his hip. “So what, then? We—we just forget it, yeah?” 

“Exactly.” 

“I can’t.” 

Ben drags his hands down his face, infuriated and tired. He gets up from the sofa and his posture is upfront and confident, ready to speak with his whole chest. “Well, you’re gonna _have_ to, Callum, alright? You’re gonna have to.” He closes some of the gap between them, almost as though that would accentuate his point a little more. “This goes no further.” 

“But this is what he wants, Ben!” Callum argues back. “He wants you to back down, a-and if you back down then...well, then he’s won ain’t he?” 

Ben’s jaw locks in an instant, and his eyes are threatened by shallow waters. Still, he doesn’t let them fall, instead speaking harshly through gritted teeth. “He’s already won, Callum,” he says, starting to laugh, jaded. “I mean, he got you to snap, didn't he? _You,_ the least aggressive person I know, a-and he’s put me in my place, ain’t he? Well and truly. S-so don't tell me that there's a chance of me winnin' _anything_ here, alright?”

A telling silence follows; both of them laying down their armour without moving a muscle. 

“You deserve so much better than this,” Callum says, and his voice has quietened along with their surrounding environment. 

Ben swallows. “Yeah well I ain’t gonna get better, am I?” 

“You already have,” Callum starts, not allowing himself to hold back any longer, the sincerity in his eyes reflecting in Ben’s blue irises. He takes a deep breath, barely processing the fact that this is the very moment he has thought about for so long. 

And sure, it wasn’t ever supposed to happen like this, but right now it’s all he’s got. If it means getting through to Ben, then he’s sure as _hell_ gonna take it. 

“You’ve got me.” 

The other man looks at Callum with a sad smile, seemingly unphased by the statement. “Yeah well _thanks,_ but, uh, you’re my best mate,” Ben says, his gaze cast down as he scratches his nose awkwardly. “You ‘av to say that.” 

“No I...I mean you’ve _got_ me,” Callum reiterates softly, but the expression on Ben’s face shows little understanding, and that’s what pushes him to say it. 

“I-I love you, Ben.” 

Callum watches as the realisation washes over Ben’s features, his brow furrowing and his head beginning to shake a little. He lets out an awkward chuckle, tripping over his words as he speaks. “What are you...w-what are you on about, you idiot?” 

There’s a part of Callum that desperately wants to run and hide, to participate in the running joke narrative along with Ben, but he can’t. He thinks about the things he read in that letter, things that Ben once felt about Callum...things that Ben may well still _feel_ about Callum. 

“I mean it,” Callum says. He maintains their eye contact, reaching out a tentative hand and clutching gently at Ben’s fingertips, because even if Ben can’t see that it’s true, maybe he’ll feel that it’s true, instead. “A-and I’ve watched you with him for so long, now, y’know, thinkin’ it would get easier, but it—”

Ben pulls his hand away in a quick, sharp movement. “Please..._please_ stop talkin’, Callum, you dunno what you’re saying...” 

Callum frowns, reaching for Ben’s hand again, but he pulls away promptly. “Yes I do, alright? I know Ben, I-I’ve known for a long time now, I just...I just didn’t ever think you’d feel the same.” 

“I don’t,” Ben says, his nostrils flared as he looks away. “We’re mates, Callum, we’ve always been mates.” 

Callum shuts him down straight away, barely even engaging his head anymore. He’s speaking with his heart, alone. “That ain’t true, Ben, okay, you know it and I know it.”

“What are you goin’ on abo-” 

“I’ve seen it,” Callum snaps, failing to keep his emotions at bay. “I-I’ve seen the letter, alright? The one you wrote to Paul, about me, a-about us—”

Ben’s bottom lip threatens to tremble. “What?”

“I-I found it in your flat earlier, when I was with Bobby,” Callum explains. “I was lookin’ for your phone, and—”

“You had no right!” Ben shouts, pointing at Callum, his eyes conveying an array of things. Anger. Hurt. _Betrayal._ “You had no right to read that!” 

“Ben, I-” 

“Don’t,” Ben warns, holding a hand up in Callum’s face. “Please, I...I can’t hear anymore of this, I need you to go.” 

“But-” 

Ben flips, pointing at the door in fury. “Get out, Callum!” 

Their gaze holds on for a few seconds longer, but for Callum it feels like a lifetime. He searches Ben’s eyes desperately, trying to find some kind of compromise, some kind of sign that he wanted Callum, too. 

But, they’re as cold as they are blue. They’re tired and hollow; _rejecting._

He struggles with walking away, feeling like each of the four walls are closing in on him; mocking him, pushing until he leaves. But not enough to stop him from asking one final thing. 

“Was it true?” 

Ben stares at him, hands shoved carelessly into his pockets, and he shrugs with nonchalance. “Was what true?” 

“The letter,” Callum says faintly, pushing back the lump in his throat. “Did you love…” he stops himself, knowing the choice of words will only anger Ben further, and knowing Ben’s answer will only _hurt Callum_ further. Re-arranging his words, he tries again. “Could we, uh, could we have had summing?” 

He looks on as Ben’s posture tenses, the younger man staring at the floor intently. “It was a long, long time ago, Callum. I was drunk, _so_ drunk, and...” Ben starts, agitation present in his tone. But then he lifts his gaze, observing the look on his best friend’s face. Callum looks devastated, and he looks anxious, but worst of all? 

He looks like he’s _still_ trying to understand Ben’s point of view. Even now.

It shatters Ben’s heart into a million pieces, and there isn’t much more that he can bring himself to say. He blinks back the tears that pool in the corner of his eyes, his voice shaken and unconvincing when he speaks. 

“I guess we’ll never know.” 

And Callum takes that as his cue. 

His cue to give up. Turn around. Walk away.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum and Ben deal with the aftermath of the former's confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello angels!!! 
> 
> I hope we're all still, like, _finding the will to live_ after Friday's episode. (No, for real, I'm struggling.)
> 
> We're only two chapters off of the end now...I really hope you all enjoy this one. 
> 
> Thanks, as always, for the beautiful support <3 
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

_Dear Paul, _

_This will be the last letter that I ever write to you. _

_I know that you won’t mind, because that’s just the kind of person you always were. Selfless. Always thinking of others before you ever thought of yourself. Just really, really pure at heart. _

_Do you remember when I first started writing these letters? Back when I didn’t really believe I’d ever let someone in again? Well, if it’s true what they say, you know, that the people who leave us behind still watch over us, then you’ll see that I have. _

_His name is Callum, and he reminds me of you a hell of a lot. He’s selfless as well, just like you were, always putting others first, and I guess he sees something worthwhile in me, too. That’s why we’ve ended up being such good friends. _

_Well, best friends, even. _

_And I’m not writing this letter in the hope of us being anything more than that, because I know that we won’t be. In fact, I don’t just know it, I’m starting to accept it. It’s okay. And it’s safer that way, too._

_If I’m being honest, I feel really lucky just to have someone like Callum in my life. And I feel really lucky to even feel at all, when I was so certain at one point that it wasn’t possible for me after you._

_The thing is, my life never seems to stop; it’s always one issue after the other. I’m always upsetting someone, always pissing someone off, always letting someone down. I guess some things never change, hey?_

_But whenever Callum’s around, everything just seems...slower. More peaceful. He’s never made me feel anything but good about myself, all of the time. I haven’t ever got to question my intentions, or who I am, or what I should be doing instead. He just gets it. He gets me. _

_For so long, I’ve been terrified of positive emotions like hope, and happiness, and love. I thought they just weren’t cut out for me, or at least I wasn’t cut out for them. And, most importantly, I thought that the minute I felt any of those things, it meant that I was forgetting you. _

_But Callum being a part of my life doesn’t equate to any of that negative stuff, I see that now. Callum being a part of anyone’s life couldn’t possibly bring anything but good. _

_You’d have loved him, Paul, I know you would, and this is me letting you know that I do, too._

_I’m completely in love with him. _

_You’re probably the first and last person I’ll ever tell. _

_Ben._

… 

When the sun breaks through the next morning, Ben can feel the weight of Callum’s words from the night before, _substantially_ so, heavy within his chest. 

He wipes at the corner of his eyes in auto-pilot mode, knowing fine well that there will be little to _no_ sleep there to remove. How could there be? He’d spent the night doing everything _but_ sleeping.

There had been tossing and turning, waking up and pacing the landing, dragging himself down the stairs, back up the stairs, into the bathroom and out of the bathroom, so on and so forth. 

But definitely no sleeping. 

Because, every time he’d tried to close his eyes, all he could see was Callum’s face, standing in that doorway.

_“Could we have had summing?”_

And the worst part? Well, the worst part is that Ben has always wondered the same thing, and now he’s got his answer.

If what Callum said last night was true, if he really has loved Ben for _that_ long? 

They could’ve had **more** than something. 

They could’ve had _everything._

Of course, there’s a part of Ben that knows it’s better this way. Even if they’d had something, even if they’d had everything, there would’ve been a bitter end destined for them somewhere along the line. Good things don’t last, especially not where Ben is concerned, and the last thing he ever wants is for Callum to end up adopting that philosophy, too. He deserves a forever kind of thing. Not some temporary high that promises an inevitable follow-up of misery. 

But then there’s the other part of Ben. The part of him that wrote the letter to Paul, who knew that this was it for him now; he’d learned to love again. The part of him with the all or nothing mentality; giving everything, or giving up entirely. And, given half the chance, Ben knows just how much he’d give to Callum, how much he’d put into that, were it ever to be. Because, it’s this part of him that lets Ben wonder what if? 

He sighs, kicking his legs out of the duvet begrudgingly and swinging them over the edge of the bed.

_“I guess we’ll never know.”_

Ben can hear the kettle whirring as he makes his way down the stairs, his body language forlorn and unapproachable. Sure, he never has been a religious man, but that doesn’t stop him praying with every fibre of his being that the individual in the kitchen isn’t Ian.

That’s the _last_ interaction that Ben ever needs, let alone today of all days. 

For that reason, Ben is grateful to arrive downstairs and find that it is in fact Bobby pottering around in the kitchen, _not_ Ian. 

“You’re up early,” Ben muses, grabbing two mugs out of the cupboard. 

Bobby looks at him bemusedly, raising his eyebrows as he speaks. “So are you,” he replies, grabbing the milk out of the fridge; an unspoken team effort from the pair of them to make the tea. “Although I heard you up an’ about for most of the night. Have you even slept?” 

Ben lets out a sharp, short laugh. “Well...define _‘slept’,”_ he jokes, making air quotations with his fingers. “If it’s the definition that I know of then no, I ain’t slept.” 

A comfortable silence settles amongst them, Bobby popping some bread into the toaster whilst Ben finishes off the cups of tea. He’d refused the offer of some toast, an unsettled feeling in his stomach telling him that food probably wasn’t the best idea right now. 

Still, Bobby makes him a slice regardless, shoving a plate at Ben with a dubious look. “I ain’t participating in your pity party,” he says, taking a bite of his own toast. “C’mon, you’re gonna eat this and _then_ you’re gonna tell me what’s happened.” 

Ben pulls a face. “Errr, there’s nothing to tell,” he defends, taking the plate reluctantly and making his way into the living room. 

“Oh, c’mon Ben,” Bobby scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I heard you last night, arguin’ with Callum.” He pulls a chair out at the dining table, sitting across from his Uncle interrogatively. “And then I found my Dad’s Power Ballads CD on the sofa this-” 

“Alright, thank you!” Ben asserts, his eyes widening as a blush descends across his cheeks. He lowers his tone, whispering over the table in embarrassment. “I didn’t _actually_ listen to it, I just…”

Bobby smirks. “You just what?” 

“I just got it out!” Ben flings his hand across the table to hit Bobby’s forearm, gritting his teeth adamantly. “You _shit.”_

“Yeah well, even _considering_ it speaks volumes,” Bobby states, matter-of-factly, and Ben laughs a little in agreement. “So, go on. What pushed you over the edge, then?” 

The older man sighs, circling a finger around the outskirts of his mug. He feels weary, drained from the mere thought of even talking about Callum. “We just, uh...we just clashed a bit last night, that’s all.” 

“Right,” Bobby mumbles. “Over?” 

“Just...just a few different things, really,” Ben hesitates, taking a feeble bite of his toast. “I ain’t, um...I ain’t really sure where we can go from here.” His eyes glaze over with sadness, something his nephew picks up on in an instant. 

“Why? What’ve you done?” 

Ben’s jaw drops indignantly, taking offence at the remark. “How come I’m the one that’s gettin’ the blame?” 

Bobby just raises his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his tea, watching as his uncle’s defences come down almost instantly. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Ben mumbles, his gaze fixated on the table. “It ain’t my fault...not all of it, anyway,” he adds. “Callum, he, um...he told me he loved me.” 

Looking across to the younger man, Ben awaits some kind of freak reaction. A cartoonish spitting out of the tea, a widening of the eyes, even a simple _“what?”_ would’ve done the trick. 

But, no. 

Bobby nods with understanding, a knowing smile spreading across his face as he stands to take his empty plate through to the kitchen.

Ben frowns, staring at his nephew impatiently. “Well?” he pushes. 

“Well _what?”_

“You just, uh...you just don’t seem all that shocked,” Ben says, watching Bobby walk into the kitchen nonchalantly. 

His nephew turns around, shrugging as he leans against the doorframe. 

“Maybe that’s ‘cause I’m not.” 

…

For the first time in a long time, Callum is all but grateful to have the day off. He needs something, _anything_ as a means of distraction, a reason to think about someone other than him. 

Ben. 

He contemplates calling Jay, asking if it’s possible for him to come into work and help out regardless, but his better judgement tells him that he’ll be better off not doing so. 

Realistically, if Callum calls Jay, then Jay might start asking questions. Questions regarding how Ben was last night, and what was said between them, and whether Callum is planning on seeing Ben again today. 

He doesn’t have the strength to talk about it. Come to think of it, Callum barely has the strength to do anything _at all_ today. He feels numb, an emptiness strong enough to cause emotional paralysis. It’s no longer just about being in love with Ben, it’s about the tremendous absence Callum can feel, having lost his best friend. 

Because he knows that he has. 

There’s simply no way they’ll ever go back to how they used to be, not now. Not when love will always, always be lingering, an elephant in the room. _Unrequited._

Regardless, Callum forces himself to leave the flat. Fresh air is exactly what he needs, isn’t it? Plentiful distractions and perhaps a good chat with Linda and Mick. Locking himself indoors all day would only do him far more harm than good. 

Or, at least that’s what he’d thought until he got halfway across the square. 

“Alright?” 

Callum stops dead in his tracks, eyes searching frantically for a spot to settle on, something that _isn’t_ Adam. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” he replies, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly. “I, uh...I‘m...I was just heading to the Vic.” 

Adam lets out a small laugh. “Bit early, innit?” 

Callum’s brow delves inwards, his lips forming a frown in confusion. “Wha—oh, for a drink?” he smiles awkwardly, the realisation a little delayed. “I, uh, I ain’t planning on havin’ a drink.” 

“So, what you goin’ to the pub for, then?” Adam asks. There’s sincerity in his voice, flecks of curiosity woven inbetween. It’s not meant to be an interrogation, more of an interest, really, and Callum knows that. He does. But it doesn’t stop him from losing patience a little. 

“What’s this, 20 questions?” he says harshly, instantly regretting it upon hearing his own tone. “Sorry, I...I didn’t sleep too well last night.” 

Adam shrugs, his features showing understanding. “S’alright,” he says. “Listen, if you ain’t busy then we could, uh, we could go an’ get some breakfast? Or...or summing?” 

Callum gives him a small, saddened smile. Of course, he left his flat with the very intention of seeking out a distraction. But, to use Adam as that distraction? It just feels a little immoral. 

The other man picks up on the momentary hesitation, and the confidence once present in his demeanour falls in response. “I mean, we don’t ‘av to, y’know, if you’re busy.” 

Callum sighs, more so at his own predicament than anything else. “N-no, it’s...it’s not that, it’s…” 

_It’s Ben._ No, really. Walking in their direction, seemingly distracted and unaware of Callum’s presence. Of course, Callum’s gut instinct is to look, to stare. He can’t help it. 

And the very second that Ben notices Callum, he stares right back. 

Because, _he_ can’t help it either. 

A lump threatens to form in Callum’s throat, barely registering the persistent sound of _“Callum”_ and _“are you okay?”_ from the man he’s supposed to be talking to. 

The distance between him and Ben could’ve been a million miles, it could’ve been a single stride. It wouldn’t matter. 

It’s distance, nonetheless. And it just feels so fucking **wrong.**

But, there’s nothing that Callum can do. Not when Ben puts his head down, barely able to look at Callum for longer than a second. Even after Callum had opened up to him. Even after Callum had told Ben he that he loved him, told Ben that he deserved better, that he _had_ better right in front of him. 

None of that is enough to even get him a small wave. A smile. An acknowledgement. 

Braving the entire situation, a front firmly up despite the heartache that weighs heavy in his chest, Callum smiles at Adam. 

“Uh, yeah...yeah, breakfast sounds good.” 

Adam frowns back at him, his tone cautious when he speaks. “You sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Callum lies.

…

“No, Ben, you ain’t fine,” Lola says argumentatively, shaking her head with her arms folded across her chest. “In fact, I don’t wanna hear that word come out your mouth again, alright? So, I’ll ask you again...what ‘appened?” 

Ben is sitting on the sofa in his flat, his body language entirely despondent. 

“Are you at least gonna look at me? Or shall I just keep talkin’ to the side of your head?” 

He doesn’t look, he barely even flinches, but he doesn’t need any visual confirmation that Lola will be rolling her eyes right about now. Instead, he simply stares at the wall, picturing the very image that he’d seen earlier in the day. 

Callum and Adam. 

Granted, Ben is being selfish. He knows that. The very minute that Callum opened up to him last night, the very second those three words left his mouth, Ben had shut him down. He denied there being any truth in the letter, he denied any feelings remotely close to love, and consequently, he denied himself the right to be jealous and hurt.

Yet, here he is. Extremely jealous and _exceptionally_ hurt. 

You know, Bobby had told him this morning that it was obvious, Callum being in love with him. When Ben pushed for justification, Bobby had explained that anyone with a pair of _functioning eyes_ could see it. _“The way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you,”_ he’d said. _“That ain’t how someone looks at a mate, no matter how close you are. It’s written all over his face.”_

And, of course, Ben knows now that Bobby was right. _It is._ Or at least it was this morning, woven into the ocean blue eyes that had locked with his own across the square. In fact, it was the way that Callum looked at him that had meant Ben could barely look back. Not for more than a second or two, anyway. 

Because if Ben let himself see that, if he exposed himself to the way that Callum looked at him, like he was the **only** person in this whole _fucking_ world? He’d crave it for the rest of his life. 

In Ben’s world, every second that he spends looking in those eyes is just another second closer to having to let them go. 

“Listen, you can ignore me all you want,” Lola cuts in, snapping Ben out of his train of thought. “I ain’t leavin’ this flat until you tell me why our daughter got sent home from school for bein’ worried sick over _you?”_

Ben tuts, rolling his eyes a little. “Lex is always lookin’ for reasons to get sent home, Lo. That ain’t on me.” 

“Except it is on you, Ben,” she retorts, pushing his legs off the coffee table abruptly and sitting herself on it. “Because you’re the one with the messed up face, a-and you’re the one that she’s been missin’ all week ‘cause you’ve skipped all your usual time together!” 

Ben finally turns his head to look at Lola, trying to speak with a placid tone. “The only reason I skipped that time is _because_ my face is messed up, Lo. I didn’t want her seein’ me like this.”

“Yeah, well she has,” Lola snaps. “S-so what now? Next time she asks me why her dad’s face is like that, what am I meant to say? Because Jay ain’t tellin’ me, a-an’ when I asked Callum he just looked at me like I was speakin’ in a different language!” 

Ben scratches at the tip of his nose awkwardly. “When ‘av you seen Callum?” 

“Earlier on in the caff. He was with that bloke from the other night, they was, uh...they was ‘avin breakfast.” 

“So, that’s what they were doin’ this mornin’,” he mumbles under his breath, heart sinking a little at the new information. 

“What?” Lola asks with impatience. 

He retreats a little, fearful of confusing the situation even further. “It don’t matter.” 

A momentary silence passes, the atmosphere shifting to something a little more empathetic. Calmer. Lola reaches a hand out, placing it gingerly on Ben’s knee as she looks at him with concern. “I’m on your side, y’know?” she says. “Whatever is goin’ on, you gotta let me help, Ben. Lex needs you, alright?” There’s a pause. “We both do. But you can’t be there for others if you ain’t even there for yourself.” 

Ben meets her gaze, seemingly unable to think clearly or coherently. “Jamie…” he starts, but his heart catches up with his head in an instant. It’s not his face that he needs to talk about right now. It isn’t his self-esteem that requires any discussion, or the blame that he’s internalised. 

Sure, all of those things hurt like hell, but that pain didn’t hold a candle to the pain of this morning, treating Callum like nothing more than a stranger in the street.

“Me and, uh, me and Jamie...we’re done.” 

“Oh,” Lola says, frowning a little. “Right.” 

Ben exhales, unsure of what else to do amongst the silence that hangs heavy between them. Eventually, Lola speaks, the confusion still prominent on her face.

“Wh--sorry, but, uh, w-what’s that gotta do wi’ your fa--”

“Just...just listen, Lola. Please,” Ben interrupts with sincerity, and she mutters a brief apology under her breath. 

“The, uh...the reason me and Jamie are...are done, is because...” he starts, taking a deep breath, “...is because of Callum.” 

Not a total lie.

Staring down at his hands as he says it, Ben waits in anticipation for some kind of response. 

_“Callum?”_ Lola lets out an awkward laugh, her pitch going up an octave as she begins to speak. “What...why? W-what’s Callum done?” 

“N-no, he ain’t...he ain’t done anything.” Ben brings his gaze up to meet hers, quite honestly feeling the most vulnerable that he’s ever felt in a long time. You see, being demoralised, both verbally and physically, by his own boyfriend? That required very little on Ben’s part. He didn’t say much, he didn’t do much, he didn’t act on any feelings that he had at the time. 

The anger, the sadness, the confusion; they were all kept at bay, all until Jamie had gone, and he was alone. 

But this? This was different. This was raw honesty on Ben’s part, everything absent but sincerity. It was alien to him, something strange and different, scary. There’s a part of him that knows if he says this aloud, then it becomes real. 

And if it’s real, then it has the potential to hurt him. 

But what could possibly hurt more than losing Callum? Ben was there this morning, he saw Callum with someone new, someone that is actually emotionally available to him. Lola even saw it, herself. 

Let’s face it, Ben had already lost him. 

**Nothing** could hurt more than that. 

And so, he takes a deep breath, finally allowing himself to accept what he’s certain he can’t change. 

“It’s, uh...Callum, he’s um…” Ben pauses, thumbs digging into his sweating palms as he chokes a little on his words. “I’m in lo—”

But, then he stops. 

Mid-sentence, mid-honesty, he hears a noise. They both do. 

Lola turns her head abruptly towards the kitchen, then back at Ben, evidently perturbed by the disturbance. She stands up, frowning a little as Ben’s jaw tenses and his demeanour changes instantaneously. 

“I told you to lock the door when you came in,” he says, his voice hushed as he stands up.

“I forgot,” she mouths back, and the opening of the kitchen door grabs her attention. 

“No Callum?” a voice says, the jaded nature of their tone encouraging Ben’s unsteady heartbeat. “Now, doesn’t that make a change?” 

Ben opens his mouth to speak, his throat dry as the name falls off his lips reluctantly. 

“Jamie.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben decides to face up to his feelings in the wake of recent events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, and Happy New Year!!
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience when waiting for this chapter; my update has been much slower than usual due to Christmas things, New Year things, and mostly because of a _hideous_ bout of writers block. 
> 
> We're at the penultimate chapter now...one more to go! I really hope this is okay for everyone, although I don't think I know what good writing is anymore ffs lol. 
> 
> Thanks again for all of the support <3 
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

Ben wants to lunge at him. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs, to clench his fists together and throw them in Jamie’s direction with every last bit of energy that he’s got. But there’s some kind of gravitational force that keeps him grounded, far stiller than the prominent thud of his heartbeat, fear circulating in his chest.

Lola scrunches her face up, looking between the pair in confusion. “I thought you two was finished?” she says, inquisitively. 

Ben’s jaw clenches, staring at the floor intensely. “We are.” 

“Are we?” Jamie asks, raising his eyebrows and feigning innocence. “S’the first I’ve heard about it.” 

“Don’t,” Ben mumbles, his voice barely heard, even amongst the silence. He lifts his head a little, braving eye contact with the other man. _“Please_ don’t.”

Jamie scoffs, walking further into the room and making his presence firmly known. “Don’t _what?”_ he asks, pulling a curious face. “Don’t cause a scene? Hm? Don’t...don’t come in with your shoes on?” Standing before Ben, Jamie lowers his mouth to the shorter man’s ear. “Or how about...don’t come back and ruin my chances to try it on wi’ Callum?” 

Ben shifts uncomfortably, the close proximity of the other man sending uninvited chills throughout his body. He does his best to maintain composure, keen to keep the fear he now feels towards Jamie at bay, but Lola observes their interaction with bewilderment nonetheless. 

“What the hell’s goin’ on?” she asks, agitation present in her tone. “Have you two split up or not?” 

“No,” Jamie cuts in, immediate and protruding, refusing Ben the chance to answer for himself. “No, we ain’t split up.” He takes a step back, looking down at Ben with a small, sympathetic smile. “We ‘ad a bit of a row and, uh, I just needed a few days to clear my ‘ead.” Jamie reaches a hand out, the pad of his thumb attempting to stroke Ben’s cheek, but the shorter man shows evident reluctance.

Lola scrunches her nose up. “Right,” she says, hesitantly. “Shall I, uh, shall I just leave you both to it then, or…?” 

“No,” Ben says, almost involuntarily. He’s embarrassed by the desperation in his voice, his mind already scrambling for excuses as to why he’s so keen for Lola to stay. “N-no, you, um, you don’t have to go.”

Lola shrugs, grabbing her coat off the arm of the sofa. “I think you two need to talk, Ben.” 

Jamie gives her a small nod. “She’s right.” 

“No, she ain’t right,” Ben spits back with determination. He snatches Lola’s cost from her grasp, perhaps a little more aggressively than he’d initially intended. “Jamie was just leaving,” he adds, glancing sideways at the other man. “Weren’t you?” 

The blonde smirks with a sly audacity, narrowing his eyes toward Ben. “Whatever you say, mate.” 

Still very much aware of Lola’s presence, Ben does his best not to snap. Visibly, his demeanour remains composed, but the tone of his voice translates how dangerously close he is to snapping. “You need to get out.” 

Jamie rolls his eyes. “This hostility, it's, uh...it’s overwhelming,” he chuckles, harshly.

“Look, I-I think it’s probably best if you just go, Jamie,” Lola cuts in. For all she has no idea what’s going on between the pair of them, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Ben is evidently uncomfortable, and it will _always_ be in her best interests to look out for him; he’s the father of her child, after all. “Maybe you should, uh, you should sort this with him another time.” 

“Sorry darlin’, I must’ve missed the part where this became your problem,” Jamie scoffs, shrugging off Lola’s suggestion with malice. He’s still towering over Ben as he says it, barely casting her a glance as the words roll off his tongue. 

Instantly taking a disliking to his tone, the blonde steps boldly in between the two men, with Ben placing an urgent hand on her arm as a means of stopping her. 

“Lo, don’t,” he mutters, applying a little force to pull her back. “It ain’t worth it.” 

“No, Ben,” she retorts, shaking his hand off, “no way, I ain’t havin’ him speak to me like that.” Her gaze fixates itself on Jamie, arms folded across her chest furiously. “What is your problem?”

“I ain’t got a problem, darlin’,” he explains, bitterly. “Granted that you, uh, stay out of this, of course.”

“I don’t like your tone.” 

Jamie’s lips edge upover into a smirk. “And I don’t like yours, sweetheart,” he says, his voice barely surpassing a whisper. His line of sight surpasses the top of her head, catching Ben’s eyes as he frowns sarcastically. “Does she always interfere like this, or?” 

“Err, _she_ is standing right here,” Lola announces indignantly, Ben interjecting in an instant. 

“Just leave it, Lola,” he says.

“S’cute, this is,” Jamie mocks, still speaking over the top of Lola’s head. “Always fight your battles for you, does she?” 

Ben glares at him, his nostrils flaring a little as he speaks. “You need to leave.” He looks on as Jamie opens his mouth to speak, cutting him off before he even gets the chance. _“Now.”_ Stepping around Lola, Ben grabs Jamie’s arm, shoving him sideways to accentuate his point. He raises his voice, rapidly losing the composure and patience that he had prior. “I mean it, Jamie, get out!” 

“Or what?” Jamie shouts back. 

“Didn’t he make himself clear?” 

With both Ben and Lola recognising the voice that sounds instantly, their heads turn in very near unison, but Callum’s eye-line doesn’t falter from it’s settlement on Jamie. “He wants you out,” he adds, strolling into the room and standing boldly before the other man, “so why don’t you take that advice, and start makin’ tracks.” 

...

** _30 minutes earlier_ **

“I think he’s cute,” Linda muses, scouring through Adam’s Facebook profile. “Wh—oh, look at him on that one, Cal,” she says with a wide grin, showing Callum the photograph that’s caught her attention, her nose eventually scrunching up accusingly. “Far better lookin’ than Ben flamin’ _Mitchell,_ if you ask me.” 

Callum’s brow furrows, snatching the phone back from her. He’d come to the Vic seeking neutral advice, yet so far he’d received everything but. “Don’t start,” he mutters, Linda poking her tongue out a little at him. He hunches his shoulders, slouching onto the bar as his hand cradles a bottle of beer. “Besides, you’re the one always tellin’ me that looks ain’t everythin’.” 

Linda smiles fondly. “They ain’t.” She grabs a bag of crisps from behind the bar, muttering something about marrying Mick as she tears them open with unashamed eagerness. Callum shakes his head politely as she offers him one, watching bemusedly as she shoves a handful into her mouth. “My point is, darlin’, he ain’t just a pretty face, this Adam bloke. From what you’ve told me, he’s got the whole lot goin’ for him! Kind, funny, understandin’ attrac-”

“Yes alright, I get it,” Callum sighs, interrupting Linda’s seemingly endless list of positives. “He’s _great,_ he is, he’s just…” 

“Not Ben?” Mick asks as he saunters past them, busying himself with stock take amidst the art of eavesdropping. 

Callum frowns, infuriated with himself. “Well, exactly.” 

“You’re gonna have to let him go sooner or later, sweetheart,” Linda advises, her tone laced with empathy despite talking through a mouthful of crisps. “I know it’s easier said than done, but…” 

“That’s the thing though, I…” Callum pauses in thought, staring pitifully at his beer. “I don’t know if I can. Not as long as he’s still kickin’ about anyway,” he mutters, trailing off in defeat. 

“I know a bloke that would finish him off for two hundred quid,” Mick chirps, fully immersed in the conversation despite his general busyness. He gets a shove in the arm from his wife, taking the glare that Linda gives him and Callum’s silence as a sure sign to return to being, well, busy. 

“This is why you don’t get tied down wi’ fellas,” Linda muses. “You spend your life puttin’ up with stupid comments like that,” she adds, emphasising the word ‘stupid’ unapologetically. Glancing at the crestfallen look on Callum’s face, though, she quickly comes to a halt. “I dunno what to suggest, darlin’,” she murmurs, placing a sympathetic hand on Callum’s arm. “I want you to be happy. We both do.” 

Callum swallows thickly, shaking his head at everything and nothing. He blinks back the potential threat of tears, taking a deep, steady breath to prevent emotional overload, before Linda starts to speak again, looking equally as pensive. 

“Look...y’know what Mick said to me this morning?” she starts, reminiscing on a conversation earlier in the day. “He said that often when people push you away, it ain’t ‘cause they think _you_ deserve it. He said it’s ‘cause they think that _they_ deserve it.” 

Callum looks up at her through his lashes, understanding etched in his features despite the uncertainty of what she was getting at. “S’true,” he mumbles. 

“So…” Linda picks up again, taking a momentary pause for thought as Callum takes a sip of his beer. “Have you ever thought that maybe Ben was lyin’ to...well, to protect you?” 

“How’d you mean?” Callum asks, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

Sighing, Linda leans closer to him, her elbows resting lightly on the bar. “Just...well, what if he does feel the same? W-what if he’s pushin’ you away because he thinks you deserve better...or because he thinks _he_ don’t deserve you?” 

“I think that’s a bit presumptuous,” Callum dismisses her, letting out a short and bitter laugh. 

“Maybe,” she reasons, raising her eyebrows at him, “But, think about it, sweetheart. I mean, Ben’s had to fight for his dad’s approval all his life, a-and his mum ain’t always been there, has she? So, he finds happiness wi’ that Paul bloke, only to lose it just as quickly, and then he gets with Jamie who...well, according to you, ain’t up to much either!” 

Callum becomes a little restless in his seat, wishing Linda knew _just_ how bad Jamie really was; wishing everyone knew, for that matter. Although, knowing what he knows only really reiterates Linda’s point, he supposes.

“I just...I dunno, darlin’, I don’t think it’s as straightforward as Ben just not wantin’ you,” Linda continues, gravitating him out of his train of thought. “Especially if what he wrote in that letter was true.” She gives Callum a melancholy smile, reaching out to place a tentative hand over his. “People don’t just switch off feelings as strong as that.” 

“You think?” 

“Sweetheart, I _know.”_

Callum’s eyes appear hopeful, his heart thudding a little more than usual. Truth be told, he had considered this, albeit only for a few brief, passing moments, but it had crossed his mind nonetheless. He knew Ben, arguably better than anyone, and Callum had been made aware of his self-destruct button many-a-time. He’d come onto Callum and then pushed him away a matter of days ago. In fact, Ben even said it in the letter, himself. 

_It’s safer that way._

For Ben to keep his distance from Callum; for them to stay friends. Nothing more. 

That’s why, for all what Linda was saying seemed a little like wishful thinking, it wasn’t entirely illogical. And Callum hates himself for still having hope. 

“So...so, what?” he asks hesitantly, eliciting an encouraging look from Linda. 

“I say, go talk to him,” she offers. “Obviously not while his boyfriend’s there, of course.” 

Callum exhales heavily, the weight of her words heavy as he mutters under his breath. “I don’t think...I don’t think he’ll be, uh, be around anymore, Lind.”

“Well, he was in here earlier, darlin’, so…” she replies with carelessness, attempting to throw her empty crisp packet into the bin and missing. _“Shit.”_

“Wha--who was?” Callum pushes hurriedly, feeling largely inconvenienced by Linda’s preoccupation with re-attempting the packet-to-bin throw. “Jamie?” 

Linda lunges for the packet again, commiserating her second miss with a grumble. “Yes, _Jamie,_ who else?” she asks, throwing for the third time. “Mick served him.”

“What time?” 

“I...hm, I wanna say...four-ish, maybe?” she ponders, shouting in the general direction of the back to her husband. “Mick, what time did you serve Ben’s fella?”

Rising from his bar stool in one swift movement, Callum takes a final swig of his beer, deciding not to waste time sticking around for the answer. “I have to go,” he says, panicked. If Jamie was back in Walford, it was only a matter of time before he went to Ben’s flat, and if Ben was there, which he most likely would be, then…

“What? Hang on a min-” Linda cuts him off mid-thought, but he’s already nearing the door. 

“Thanks for the, uh, beer...a-and the chat,” he adds, hurriedly. 

And, before Linda has chance to argue any further, Callum has gone. 

…

_ **Present moment** _

Giving Callum the once over, Jamie sighs almost tiredly, shouldering past him with ignorance. He shakes his head at Ben, talking down to him as he perches himself on the arm of the sofa. “Wow. You’ve, uh, you’ve got the full team,” he offers sarcastically with a hand placed against his heart. “Very touching.”

“Sorry, didn’t I make myself clear, you-” 

“Oh, leave it out, Callum,” Jamie snaps, a cruel chuckle escaping his laughs. “I don’t, uh, wanna ruin your fairytale moment or anythin’, but...this ain’t your time to play the hero.” 

“I ain’t playin’ anything.” 

“So what’dya call this, then?”

Ben braves eye contact with Callum, his own orbs damp and apologetic. “You don’t have to do this,” he mouths, his breathing breaking a little, but Callum manages to find the strength to look away, re-focusing on Jamie.

“I don’t know what you’ve come back here for, mate,” he shrugs, feigning much more confidence than he truly feels. “You ain’t wanted, a-and you ain’t welcome.” 

Jamie shakes his head subtly, his lips upturned into a knowing smirk. “This ain’t about me, though, is it?” He stands from his seated position, maneuvering around a baffled Lola to stand before Calllum. “I know what you want,” he whispers with accusation, but Callum seems unphased.

“You know nothin’ about me,” he retorts through gritted teeth. “But I know a _hell_ of a lot about you. So, I suggest you get out before I make a call.” 

Realisation washes over Jamie’s features right before Callum’s eyes, and Jamie lowers his tone, suddenly cautious of the oblivious female presence. His demeanour becomes erratic and panicked, visibly losing his grip on control. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he spits, shaky, but quiet. 

“Except I do, Jamie,” Callum says, his undeniable will to protect Ben overpowering any fear or doubt that dares to rear its head, as he steps a little closer. “And I don’t think the law takes too well to control freaks...or _abusers.”_

Jamie grabs a fistful of Callum’s shirt, forceful in his pursuit to push him against the nearest wall. The switch in his expression is visible and wildly unnerving, and Callum witnesses it all before his eyes, just before the other man throws a staggered punch. 

Both Ben and Lola lunge forward without a second thought, Ben putting himself in front of Callum whilst Lola grabs Jamie by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from her friend with brute force. 

Callum brings an unsteady hand up to his bloody nose, a little shaken from the adrenaline. He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, shaking his head as Ben tells him with sincerity not to stoop to Jamie’s level. 

“Don’t worry,” Callum chokes out amidst a bitter laugh, “he ain’t worth it.” 

Lola still has a firm grip on Jamie‘s shirt, using it to push him towards the kitchen doorway with everything she has. “You,” she shouts, _“out.”_

Jamie stands there, three sets of eyes upon him as his gaze is set upon Ben. He appears to be waiting for something, his irises speckled with expectation. “Ben?” He pushes, as if the younger man would defend his place.

Ben shakes his head, careful not to move away from Callum and clenching his jaw as he speaks. “I don’t wanna see you round here again,” he says, exhaling with the relief of speaking his truth. _“Ever.”_

… 

Returning from the bathroom with a dampened cloth, Ben offers Callum a shy smile, sitting cautiously beside him on the sofa. Lola had left shortly after Jamie, with Ben ushering her out on a promise that he'd explain everything later. His only focus had been to get Callum cleaned up, or perhaps even to be on his own with Callum. 

Of course, he'd never admit the latter to himself. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, placing the cloth tenderly onto the other man’s wounded nose. “This is all I could find.” 

Callum’s nose twitches slightly at the contact, the cool sensation of the water a little uncomfortable against his broken skin. “S’okay,” he mumbles, “it could’ve been worse.” 

“Your nose or the cloth?” Ben asks, eliciting a smile out of Callum. 

“Both.” 

A comfortable silence settles into the atmosphere as Ben continues to tend to Callum’s injury, the outside world suddenly a foreign concept to them both. Ben’s movements are gentle and cautious, holding the cloth against Callum’s wound to soak up the excess blood. Something about it, something about them, feels incredibly intimate, and the sound of Callum’s laboured breathing makes Ben wonder if he can feel it, too. Still, he says nothing, careful not to break the silence, almost as though doing so would break Callum a little more in the process. 

“You okay?” Callum asks eventually, candour in his voice leaving Ben entirely still, ceasing all of his movement. 

“With all due respect,” he starts, gently. “I ain’t the one that’s just been hit.” 

Callum sighs, enveloping Ben’s motionless hand with his own and pushing it slowly away from his face. “I...I just mean with Jamie comin’ back, and—”

“Yeah well, he’s gone now, ” Ben dismisses, chewing lightly on his bottom lip. “For good this time.”

He makes direct eye contact with Callum, knowing the meaning that his words hold, the change that they’re capable of. He knows that without Jamie, things could’ve been so different for him and Callum; they _would’ve_ been so different. 

And now, he’s gone. 

But Ben fears it’s all a little too late.

The same silence meets them again, only this time it’s less comfortable. This time it’s heavy and questioning, urging either one of them to speak, to be honest with one another, and with themselves too. And Ben knows exactly what he wants to say; he’s known since the minute Callum walked out of that door last night. 

That he’s _so_ grateful for him, not just today, but always. That he’s sorry, _unbelievably_ sorry. That he didn’t mean a single word of what he said last night, and that he’s so _fucking_ in love with Callum it practically hurts. 

That’s what Ben _wants_ to say. He just doesn’t know how.

“So you saw Adam this morning?” he settles for, kicking himself as soon as he does. 

Callum lowers his gaze, suddenly uncertain of where to look. He can feel Ben’s eyes on him, willing him to give an answer, but he isn’t sure of the right thing to say. “I did,” he murmurs, falling into silence immediately after. 

“A-are you two, like…” Ben starts, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly as he trips over his words. “So is it...are you, uh, are you...y’know…?”

Callum looks at him again, raising an eyebrow and trying to suppress the adoring smile that’s threatening to show. 

“Are you, like, seeing him now?” Ben gets out eventually, clearing his throat. “Like, officially?” 

Shrugging, Callum frowns a little at the interrogation, unsure of what the right answer is. Unsure of what Ben is really, _truly_ asking him here. “I mean I’ve only seen him twice, so...so _no,_ I guess.”

“Oh.” Ben says, nodding vacantly. His lips are suddenly far dryer than they were seconds ago, and he feels tongue-tied in an instant, suddenly hyper-aware of how _alone_ they are, both physically and in the sense that neither had any real ties to any significant others. 

Callum’s eyes bore into his expectantly, the chemistry nothing short of electric, but there’s confusion seated in his blue irises when Ben abruptly stands in one quick, sudden movement. “Well I’m, uh...I’m glad it’s goin’ well for you, anyway.”

“Wh--Ben, I-” Callum stutters, entirely baffled by the shift in atmosphere. 

“No, really I am,” Ben enthuses, scratching mindlessly at the corner of his left eye. “A-and thanks…” he adds, his head catching up with heart and intervening, “for, uh, y’know…” he points to his own nose feebly, referencing the other man’s wound, “...for Jamie.” 

Any hope that Callum had dissipates, his facial expression now disconcerted as he stands up, too. “Sure,” he murmurs, mentally cursing himself for ever letting what Linda proposed get inside of his head. **“Is that it?”**

Ben’s mouth forms a thin line as he nods, a small ‘yeah’ falling from his lips. 

“I’ll, uh...I’ll see myself out then.”

The blunt of Ben’s nails dig into his palms as he watches Callum go, knowing how utterly ridiculous this entire thing was, wishing his fear of getting hurt, his fear of hurting Callum, would just give him a five minute break. 

He’s restless on his feet, urging himself to say something, anything, to make Callum stay, the panic rising in his stomach as he hears the opening and closing of the front door. Ben knows this is probably his chance to get it right, it could be his only chance to get it right. 

After everything with his Dad. After Paul. After Jamie. 

_Fuck,_ Callum is the only thing that’s right. 

And, that’s why Ben is so afraid. 

But, it’s also why Ben’s feet are failing him, betraying his head and following his heart, rushing to the door with unapologetic desperation. He pulls the door open, barely recognising his own voice as he shouts. 

“Callum, wait!” 

As the older man turns around, Ben can feel his insecurities creeping into the spotlight, but he’s already speaking again, out into the cold and wintery air, before they get the chance to take full control. 

**“That ain’t it.”**


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Ben finally let his guard down and let Callum in?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, here we are. The final chapter. (I'm so sad, I may well be shedding a tear ffs)
> 
> I cannot thank everyone enough for the endless love, support and encouragement for this fic. I've adored every second of it, and I really hope you guys have too. 
> 
> Let's get these idiot boys together, shall we?! 
> 
> Love today, tomorrow and always, 
> 
> Chlo xx
> 
> **NB:** Title is from a song called 'Wonder' by Lauren Aquilina. Listen for ultimate sad feels.

**“That ain’t it.”**

Callum stands there, an array of responses presenting themselves in his head, and none of them good enough to translate how he truly feels. One thing for certain, the minute his heart opts for a hopeful reaction, he shuts it down imminently. No getting ahead of himself, no wishful thinking or romanticising the situation, no assumptions or preemptions. 

And, as a direct result of such, _no getting hurt._

“What ain’t it?” he settles for, sighing a little impatiently as he speaks. He shoves his hands into his pockets, keen to protect them from the bite of the cold and, if Callum’s entirely honest, equally as keen to come off a little more casual and careless than he truly feels right now. 

Ben just stares back at him, still hovering in the doorway with his mouth slightly agape, almost as though he doesn’t know the answer himself. Callum can almost see some kind of dialogue taking place in the other man’s head right now, obviously struggling with whatever it is he wants to say, and whether or not to even say it, for that matter. 

A crease forms in Callum’s brow as he frowns. “Well?” he pushes, growing increasingly tired with the silence. “Ben, what is it?” 

Ben’s lips wield into a tight, thin line as Callum stands before him, waiting. For all it could be seconds that were passing, to Callum it felt like minutes, hours even, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood for a guessing game. He shakes his head tiredly as Ben’s ocean eyes continue to speak volumes, all despite the silence that he opts for.

Still, Callum doesn’t have it in him to stand here and figure out what Ben has to say, he just wants to hear him say it. 

But, of course, Ben says nothing. 

“Right,” Callum mutters, turning on his heels to walk away. He can feel those familiar eyes piercing into the back of his head, willing him to turn around, but Callum won’t do it. He doesn’t do it.

And that’s what pushes Ben to finally take matters into his own hands. 

He leaves the doorway hurriedly, grabbing Callum with a certain determination about him. As Callum responds to the tug on his arm and spins around, Ben crashes their lips together, forceful and messy at first as he gives into all he’s ever really, _truly_ wanted. 

It takes very little time for Callum to reciprocate, his hands finding their way to Ben’s face in a bid to bring him closer, in a bid to bring _them_ closer, whilst Ben’s hands reside on Callum’s chest, gripping at the material of his jacket and moving them both towards his flat. 

As they stumble indoors, Callum frees one of his hands to shut the door behind them, careful not to let his mouth leave Ben’s. He knows he should be asking questions, he knows they should be talking this through, he knows he should be easing the pace, slowing things down. 

But, it’s the way Ben feels against him, the way his hands are anywhere and everywhere, making contact with as much of Callum as possible. Discovering. _Wanting._ Even if he knows he probably should, he can’t stop. 

With his soul awakened and his senses heightened, Callum can’t help but let Ben know, a short, guttural moan escaping his lips as he pushes the other man against the kitchen counter, an overwhelming need to show Ben just how much he wants him. How much he’s always wanted him. 

How much he’d always **want** him. 

Moving both hands down to the hem of Ben’s jumper, Callum grabs the material, eager to pull it over Ben’s head as his inhibitions prove to be lost. He feels two hands cover his own, though, preventing the movement and snapping Callum out of his lustful haze. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispers against Ben’s mouth, still fearful to put too much distance between them. 

Ben’s eyes lock sincerely with Callum’s, searching them for answers to a question he hadn’t yet asked. “Tomorrow night,” he starts, his breathing laboured and his hands still resting gently over Callum’s. “What’re you doin’?”

Callum pulls a face as he lets go of the jumper’s material, slightly concerned by Ben’s sudden change of heart. “Why?”

“Are you free or not, Callum?” Ben asks, willing to hurry the conversation along before his non-existent restraint falters and he lets Callum have him there and then on the kitchen counter. 

“Y-yeah, I ain’t got any plans,” Callum replies, pulling back from Ben in an attempt to cool off. 

Ben presses his teeth lightly against his bottom lip as he takes a deep and unsteady breath. “Well, we go for dinner, then. We do this properly,” he starts, his gaze never faltering, but his mouth suddenly dries up in the face of Callum’s silence. “I-if that’s what you want, too?” 

The corners of Callum’s lips threaten to turn up into a coy smile, his heart being on the verge of bursting out of his chest. “A-are you askin’ me on a date?” he says, an element of hopeful vulnerability in his voice. 

Ben swallows, his nerves equally as transparent. “Are you sayin’ yes?” 

Callum resists the urge to throw himself back into Ben’s arms, a litany of _yes, yes, yes_ threatening to resolve his composure. “I’ll think about it,” he settles for, his eyes teasing as Ben smiles at him. 

“Yeah?” he asks softly, and _that’s it._ Callum can’t help but smile back. 

“Yeah.” 

…

The next day drags for Ben, with every passing minute feeling a little more like an hour. He’d barely slept, barely even laid still for that matter, his mind pacing with thoughts of everything that had happened; everything that had been said. As a consequence, Ben is so tired he feels nigh on _delirious,_ but today he doesn’t care. 

In fact, Ben would take a thousand sleepless nights if it meant feeling as happy as he did when he woke up this morning. He’s pretty certain he could function off the adrenaline alone. 

Oh, and the coffee that he was knocking back, courtesy of the caff. But mostly just adrenaline. 

“Am I keepin’ you or summing?” Ian asks sarcastically, noticing Ben’s avid clock watching on more than one occasion. 

“Wh—oh, sorry, I was just-”

“You was just checkin’ the clock for the hundredth time,” Ian interrupts with a huff, rolling his eyes at Ben’s _harmless-school-boy_ expression. “I’m trying to pitch my position for council to you here,” he whines, aligning some papers as he speaks. “What could be more important than that?” 

Ben pulls a face, side-eyeing his mum bemusedly. “A lot of things, believe me,” he mutters. 

“Well, thanks for the support,” Ian jibes, giving both Ben and Kathy evils across the table. “Really appreciate that.” 

“Oh, leave it out, Ian,” Kathy tuts, rolling her eyes at him as she stands to leave the table. “I’ve heard this speech 6 times in the last 2 hours.” 

“Ben hasn’t!” Ian protests, looking at his younger brother expectantly. 

“Yeah, and Ben doesn’t want to, either,” the other man states matter of factly, taking a swift gulp of his coffee. “I got other things to think about today, Ian.” 

“Oh really?” Ian folds his arms indignantly, leaning across the table to interrogate Ben. “Like what?” 

“If you _must_ know,” he starts, “I’ve got a date.” 

“Never in a million years,” Ian scoffs, insultingly. “You’ve only just finished wi’ that other bloke!” 

Clenching his jaw at the brief mention of Jamie, Ben does his best to remain level-headed. “Yeah well,” he says, his voice softening at the thought of Callum being the gentleman in question. “This is different.”

Ian very nearly spits out his tea, spluttering arrogantly at the prospect. _“Different,”_ he mutters in disbelief. “Go on then, enlighten me. Who is it?” 

“Err, mind your own,” Ben says irritably, his phone buzzing on the table as he does so. 

It’s a message from Callum. 

Quickly picking the device up, Ben tries to suppress a smile, keen to distract from the light blush he can feel working it’s way across his cheeks. Still, Ian catches a glimpse of the name on the mobile, and more importantly, a glimpse of Ben’s reaction. “Wh—no. You’ve got to be ‘avin a laugh.” 

“What?” 

“Callum’s your date, isn’t he?” Ian pries, his expression gobsmacked as he puts two and two together. “I only saw him yesterday havin’ breakfast in ‘ere with some other bloke! Mum, ‘av you heard this?” he hollers over his shoulder. “Ben’s goin’ on a date wi’ Callum!” 

“What?” Kathy asks, sauntering back over to the table. _“Callum_ Callum?” 

“Well, how many other Callums do you know?” Ben snaps, growing increasingly tired of the pair of them. 

His mum lets out a somewhat disappointed sigh, staring off into the distance with a thoughtful expression. “I thought he was seein’ that fella from the bar.” 

“He was 24 hours ago,” Ian jibes under his breath, eliciting a cold look from Ben. “What? I’m just sayin’.” 

“Yeah, well don’t,” Ben says, standing up from the table. “I thought you’d be pleased for me, at least, mum,” he adds a little sadly, glancing at Kathy with an element of expectation in his features. 

“I am, darlin’, I am,” she reassures, but Ben can sense the ‘but’ that’s approaching. “It’s just…” 

He sighs, closing his eyes momentarily and preparing to take the fall. “It’s just what?” 

Kathy places a gentle hand on his shoulder, coming off far more patronising than she perhaps intended. “He’s been such a good friend to you, has Callum,” she starts, an underlying somber tone to her voice. “I just don’t want you to go hurting each other, a-and ruin that.” 

“You mean you don’t want me hurting him,” Ben says, shaking his head as he speaks in disbelief, his demeanour entirely defeated. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“Ben, don’t be like that! Ben—”

But, despite Kathy’s attempts to call him back, he’s gone. 

....

The respective afternoons of both Ben and Callum pan out towards their anticipated evening, after that, but neither of them find it an easy ride. 

Callum spends most of his dodging interrogation from Jay, explaining to him that the clock watching on his part was entirely down to the fact it was Friday; he was urgent to get out of work, **not** urgent for a date with his best friend of several years, recently out of an emotionally and physically abusive relationship.

It seems to be the case that Jay is just as difficult to quieten as Ian and Kathy were, even when the conversation arises in the midst of a busy day in the parlour. 

“A date, Jay,” Callum had caved eventually, rolling his eyes at the other man’s risen eyebrows. “I’ve got a date.”

He explained that _no,_ it wasn’t Adam, _yes,_ he was more than fine, it just hadn’t worked out, and _no,_ he wasn’t telling Jay who it was. 

“And what about that little shiner on your nose?” Jay had asked, referring to the bruises inflicted upon Callum by Jamie the evening before. “Y’know, from your bust up with Ben’s ex-_bulldog._ How you gonna explain that one to this bloke?” 

With a knowing smile and a nervous skip of the heart, Callum had looked at Jay with reassurance. 

“I reckon he’ll understand.” 

In some respects, Ben’s afternoon is a similar experience. He, too, was dodging interrogation, but this time from the demons in his head. Some sounded awfully familiar, specially selected words from those closest to him, and he hadn’t quite mastered the art of shutting those demons out. 

_“What’ve **you** done?”_ Bobby had asked him that time.

_“Our daughter got sent home from school for bein’ worried sick over **you**,”_ Lola had said. 

_“**You’ve** only just finished wi’ that other bloke,”_ Ian jibed. 

And then Kathy. His own mum. _“He’s been a good friend to you. Don’t go hurtin’ each other,”_ she’d offered, hedging the fact that, really, it was Ben destined to hurt Callum. 

Never the other way around. 

If Ben’s being entirely honest, it’s those words that had hurt the most. Because, Callum has been a good friend to him. A best friend. 

The best friend that Ben could ever ask for. 

And, being with someone like Callum was a little like touching gold. It needs to be in the right hands, in the right environment, handled with care and compassion, _idolised._ Guaranteed to be separate from harm. 

He can’t promise Callum any of those things. He couldn’t promise Paul any of those things, either, and look what happened. The gold was shattered, bruised and broken. Taken from everyone and everything. 

Taken from _Ben._

And, right here, right now, staring in the mirror at his own scars, both inside and out? Ben isn’t sure he can go through that again. 

So, he doesn’t get ready. 

_Not like Callum does._

Callum spends a whole 40 minutes picking out what to wear, whilst Ben doesn’t even look. Callum checks his phone constantly, fearing that Ben may have a change of heart, whilst Ben checks his phone constantly, hoping that Callum has a change of heart. Callum paces around Stuart in his flat, trying to enjoy a beer for Dutch courage, whilst Ben sits alone on the sofa, knocking back a whiskey to numb the feeling of what he was about to do. 

Because, Callum arrives at the restaurant for 7:30, just like they’d agreed earlier in the day. 

But, so does a text message, directly from the person that never texts at all. 

Directly from the very person that should be here, right now, with Callum. 

** _I can't. I'm sorry._ **

…

"What does he mean he _can't?"_ Linda asks, impatiently. "Why's he gotta be so ambiguous? Why's everythin' such a _drama_ to him?" 

Callum shrugs, feebly. "I-I don't think he does it on purp-"

"Err, there you go again," Linda cuts in, her tone empathetic, but firm, "defending him." She sits down beside the young man, placing a gentle hand on his back. "He don't deserve it, darlin." 

Sighing in defeat, Callum lets himself fall limply into the back of the sofa. He swallows back further defences, blinking away the shallow pools of tears in his eyes as he flashes a small, sad smile towards Linda. If he's honest, he's surprised she hasn't told him to _get a grip_ by now. Why couldn't he just go straight home? Why couldn't he just accept things for what they were? Why did he always end up in this pub, in _this_ back room, pouring his heart out to the only maternal figure he's ever really had? 

"Like deja vu this, innit?" Callum offers tragically, putting his thoughts into context, and Linda hums in unfortunate agreement.

"I'd do it every night if I 'ad to, sweetheart," she says, mirroring his wistful smile. "You know that." Squeezing his hand, she stands to leave, expressing that she better get back out front before Mick comes chasing her. Just as the words leave her mouth, her husband arrives in the doorway, eliciting a small, ironic laugh from Linda. 

"Speak of the devil," she jokes, her grin falling as she catches a glimpse of the look on Mick's face. 

He grimaces slightly, looking more concerned for Callum than he does for his wife. "You, uh...you've got a visitor," he announces cautiously, another figure coming into the frame. 

"Mick!" Linda snaps, looking at her husband in despair. "What've you let him in 'ere for, you pillock?" She hovers in front of Callum like some kind of human shield, running her mouth off instantly at the young man before her. 

_Ben._

"I'm sorry, b-but Callum don't wanna see you right now," she states, shaking her head at his audacity, "do you, Callum?" 

When there's no response from behind her, Linda whips her neck around to gauge the other man's reaction, instantly feeling like an intruder. A trespasser. Like she's witnessing something that she really has no part in. 

Callum has locked eyes with Ben, so much so it seems relatively _gravitational,_ a universal force that has no choice but to bring them together. The tears that once resided in his eyes are now spilling over onto his cheeks, his entire being captivated by the person stood before him. He looks heartbroken and confused, so angry and _so_ frustrated, and when she re-focuses her attention onto Ben, the emotional architecture is a mirror image. 

In that moment, Linda knows there is so much more that needs to be said.

"We'll, uh...we'll leave you to it," she mumbles, grabbing Mick by the arm and hurrying them out, leaving Ben to say his piece.

He doesn't move for a short while, even after Callum breaks the eye contact, stumbling over his words as he finds the courage to speak. "I-I...thought I'd, uh, I thought I'd find you here." 

Callum nods silently, his whole posture visibly tense, even upon the comfort of the sofa. "Congratulations," he mutters, bitterly. "You got one thing right, at least." 

"Please don't be like that," Ben says, knowing fine well that he has no right, but struggling in the face of anger from someone that he so desperately _wants_ love from. "I made the wrong call." 

"Oh, really? A-and which one was that, hm?" Callum pushes, rage taking precedence over devastation. "Agreeing to give us a try in the first place? O-or standing me up?" 

Ben shakes his head, blue eyes threatening to own up to their sadness. "I think you know." 

"E-except I don't know," Callum cries, standing up from the couch and facing the other man properly. "I don't know. A-and I'm tired of it, Ben," he whispers, his voice breaking. "I'm so tired."

Ben reaches out to grab the other man's hand, but Callum pulls away instantly, turning to face the wall, barely able to _look_ at his friend at this point. Exhaling unsteadily, Ben attempts to explain himself further. “Callum, _this...”_ Ben starts, his voice small as he speaks, “you, me, _us_...i-it's scary. I'm _scared_. A-and I just dunno what to do with it.” 

“What, a-and you think I do?” Callum pushes back, turning around again. “You think I know how to handle any of this? Just days ago, Ben, y-you were in a relationship. I told you that I was in love with you, a-and you pushed me away, remember? You told me none of that stuff in the letter was true, and I...I felt like an idiot,” he rambles, the volume of his voice gradually increasing as he does so. “But then, you ask me out. Y-you kiss me, you ask me to dinner, a-and you say you wanna do things properly, then you just...you just don’t show.” Callum trails off, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes again as he takes an unsteady breath. “You think _I_ know how to feel right now, Ben?”

The younger man’s voice is small as he casts his gaze to the floor, evidently uneasy. “No,” he murmurs, the only thing he can bring himself to offer.

Callum lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, allowing a single tear to spill down his cheek. The anger and the frustration dissipate, leaving nothing but heartache in his possession, and it feels that little bit harder to speak. “Y’know, all you had to do was say, Ben,” he starts, unsteadily. “All you had to do w-was tell me that you didn’t want me. Th-that you didn’t see me like that.” He wipes his cheek with the back of his sleeve, troubled by his own vulnerability. “It would’ve hurt, i-it did hurt but...I’d have dealt with it, Ben. I-I’d have dealt with it in my own time.” 

Ben doesn’t reply, rather maintaining eye contact with the ground, fearful to see the sadness etched on Callum’s face. 

“D-do you even wanna be friends anymore?” the older man pushes in the midst of the heavy silence, and the break in his voice is enough. Enough to lift Ben’s gaze from the floor, to gravitate their eyes back together. Enough to take Ben’s shattered heart out of his chest and to place it onto his sleeve. 

“I don’t wanna be your friend, Callum,” he confesses, softly, stepping forward and closing some of the gap between them. He knows that if he doesn’t speak up now, he runs the risk of losing Callum, and nothing…

no past, no future, no fear

...is worth losing _him._

And so, Ben says it, like a weight alleviated from his mind, body and soul. “I love you,” he confesses, silencing the demons in his head. “God, I-I...I love you too much to be your friend.” 

Callum’s bottom lip trembles slightly as he shakes his head, almost as though he can’t bear to let himself believe what Ben’s saying, to let himself be made a fool of again. “Then why’d you stand me up?” 

“Because I hurt people, Callum,” Ben exhales slowly, willing his heart to stop racing a mile a minute in his chest. “You gettin’ hit by Jamie yesterday, a-and Lola havin’ to see it all. The fact you’re standin’ here, now, cryin’. It’s all ‘cause of me,” he whispers, both to the man before him and to himself. “And you deserve better. Y-you might not see it now, you might not see it tomorrow, y-you might not see it for ages...b-but you will. You will, Callum, a-and when you do, you’ll…you’ll go.” 

Without a moment of hesitation, Callum places his hands on either side of Ben’s face. It’s a gentle touch, of course, but firm enough to put across his point as he speaks. “I don’t want better,” he says confidently, his thumbs making gentle movements against the skin beneath his fingertips. “I just want you.” 

Ben’s defences falter in that moment, and he allows them to do so as Callum leans in to kiss him. It’s different to the other times. It’s better. The way Callum’s mouth moves against his, languid and paced, like they’re the very last two people on the Earth. There’s passion, of course, wanting, a taste of lust, but it feels a hell of a lot like love. 

Love that isn’t rushed, or stolen, or sought after. It’s just there. _Timeless._

And that’s why they take it slow. 

Slow to tell everyone that they’re together, to explain the situation. Slow when they share a bed for the very first time, slow to figure out what they both want, to discover what makes the other come apart. Slow when Ben lets himself unravel beneath Callum’s touch, slower when Callum does the same. 

Sure, some days things spin a little out of control. Some days they argue, with one running their mouth and the other giving the silent treatment. One walking out and the other drinking to dull the pain. The words they exchange can be harsh sounding, quickly spoken, and never thought out. 

But then, one of them utters those three words. 

“You deserve better.”

And the other will slow things down again. Bring it back to their pace. Timeless, _remember?_

“I don’t want better. I just want you.”

**Author's Note:**

> **Thanks for reading!! :) **
> 
> I'm **@scofieldsballum** on twitter, and **smugdensmitchell** on Tumblr.


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